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This edition is limited to 
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IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE. 


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Idylls of Bird Lite 


Bird and Nature Essays 


BY 


BERT G. HOCHWALT 


EDITED BY 


he. PRAXIDES BLANDFORD HOCHWALT 


WITH INTRODUCTION 
BY 
WILL WILDWOOD 
AND 
MEMOIR 
BY 


J. O. AAHBURTON 


1923 


CopyRiGHT, OCTOBER, 1923 
PRAXIDES BLANDFORD HOCHWALT 
All rights reserved. 


A. F. HOCHWALT COMPANY 
PUBLISHER 
pias 


Dedication 


To a Bird Lover an (: 


©o : 


ERT, man, husband, father, 
Companion, lover of birds. 
Whose heart was ever in\tune 


a With Nature, b 
$ Sharing her secrets and | 
7 Opening the wonder-world | 
~ To his or 

‘a ° ° 

va Grateful wife, Praxides, 

; and 

\ | Daughter, Constance Marie. 

i 
| 


LS 
Fel <_< 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 
| PTe PPh Tey Re BEML PLOW nettle 6 AA Tol aa SP AAADEAES) Se ARG a RAR MO ag Ld a LO 9 
RTTETOUU CLIO’ Mee eee Eee he ee Maal anal Tip eae, fa 11 
PIBINOM Of Dern CTA TOCIWaALlacmir nia nin ulrcia hit Carin tiara 15 
Springtide 
IBY sea UbRae/ eakpw ye) ou aCeds rho Ok NNR Alm ae EATEN ty ete RUIN Fey gal 29 
The Romance of Mr. and Mrs. Bob White......{/... 45 
FIOM Ce Uicn ta they DOR. dir ano anemia nhs Nar 56 
The Domestic Affairs of the Sora Rails.........{ SOA PK aN: 
1 Sod es Wd ape acecy EWG ae Reh na Voteae ye em OE LAA AIA Be i ae ard OA i 2) 3 70 
| ¥ TERI ards ReNnGeZVOUS frit deci e ial leiel eae ives 78 
i. Summertime | 
ee IeIDIES OleAt DLLs hOVEL INT) cet neaany tii, Mey men anna, de 89 
: SHES O DET Se VLCTAUL por cet pehe teoae cUgh cele ae Len ec me eae og 95 
The Robin as an Insect Destroyer..... FURL eae 99 
TMAVeS TBD NT Yo stearate )RM CREST Us ari oY Pen est LADO fC 101 
wy / Autumnal Days 
PN TETLTTI TUR ea oe oa ne Iie DIG RSPR LCL NPIL IS Ie a ene 109 
ANG OPE Fa lagea it @ Yertel otei es eed de eee ane TDn) aaron aug a bn) Wasa 111 
) CO TAUTA eae Cn Fer ee terete rare Out hae got 118 
| Winter Months 
Our Feathered Winter Residents.................% 127 
AuWinrets Walkin PlicnwOOd oo)... utes wugeeht 140 


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FOREWORD 


HIS collection of Nature-essays now presented to the 

reading public, is not a scientific treatise, but the plain 

notes and impressions of an amateur bird-lover. The 
young spirit that has since passed away, endeavors to have us 
take an interest in bird life. 

There exists, in fact, a three-fold interest in this subject: 
the zsthetic, the intellectual and ‘the cultural. The appeal 
that the color, the sound and the flight of birds makes, enriches 
our sense of the beautiful. The study of\the kinds of birds, 
their manners and habits, and their_relations_to.us are interest- 
ing and useful subjects for the mind’s attention, and the store 

house of our knowledge. Furthermore, any subject that. can 
i help us wing our flight heavenward, has its cultural effect \in 
. taking us out of the materialism found in our daily lives. The 
\considerdtion of Nature, and in particular the interest in bird 
life, unfolds to us the order of Providence, furnishing us with 
so many shore pathways to the Creator. 

The purpose of editing the present collection of essays is 
not-to offer this slight contribution to-the literature of Nature 


study, but rather, as a tribute of lové and gratitude to a com- 


al 


panion who loved Nature, and who inspired me with an interest 
in the feathery kingdom. May this offering show the way to 
others and present new visions of refinement! 

The essays have been arranged according to the seasons. 
This order seems to be the natural way, even though the divi- 
sions are\not balanced in number, owing to the untimely death 
of the author. 

| I wish to thank the editors of The Sportsmen's Review 
Sand’of Birds and Nature for the permission to publish several 
| essays in this collection. 

-I am very grateful for the aid which my friends have given 


in the various stages of the publication. 
Praxipes BLanpForp HocHWALT. 


March 21, 1923. 


[ 10, | 


\ ee ~~, 
oa 


INTRODUCTION 


By Witt Witpwoop 
(FRED E. POND) 


N the brief span of an ideal life of rare promise — closing 
when he had but reached the early prime of manhood — 
Bert Hochwalt had given evidence of natural talent ag a 

writer on outdoor recreation, showing a spirit of keen rosin boase: 
asm, and a knowledge of birds, gained through habits Of close 


~ observation, which combined to make his essays remarkably 


Bee 
entertaining and instructive. 
ar The many friends whose good fortune it was to know him , 


\. intimately, found charm and inspiration in his companionship. 
Rolding high ideals, seeking field and forest for study of bird 
life and all the animate life therein, he had the enthusiasm of 
/ Ja young Audubon, and a chat or a stroll with Bert Hochwalt 
» < \was a delight to his associates. Manly, in the true sense of the 
% ort there was in him a spirit of chivalry, a determination to 
I Beet aistice to all; in fact, he was one “in whose brave-spirit 
IN ature fused the tenderness of woman.” 


Although fond of healthful open-air recreations, particu+ 


latly those of the fields and woods, he loved the pursuits of 


[ 1 ] 


F 


FA 4 ~ fr 
A \vad/ 


the naturalist to an evefi greater degree than thdseof the sports- 
man — as clearly Gemonetrited in his writings. His descrip- 
tions 6 the haunts and habits of favorite song and game birds 
ate etl pen pictures. Every season of the year had charm for 
him, and his impressions of scenes and places are given in 
graphic style, stimulating in the reader a desire for Nature 
study. 

. There is an object lesson, pleasantly given, in each of the 
| Aaa inthis volume, and I venture to mention especially “The 
Romance of Mr. and Mrs. Bob White,” as a classic conveying 
an ideal worthy of preservation in the minds and hearts of all 
sportsmen whose cherished recreation is with dog and gun afield 
in pursuit ofthe game birds mentioned. Therein is inspiration 
for a sportsman-naturalist. 

Avoiding the technical phrase and coldly scientific method 
of many writers-on ornithology, Bert Hochwalt’s charming 
chapters relating his experiences among birds seem to take the 
reader along with. him in his rambles. to enjoy companionship 
with the birds — songsters and feathered friends of the game 
bird species. FAVS 


Many sportsmen and Nature lovers who have read and ad- 


mired — as a writer of this brief commentary —/the delightful... wal 


[AZ] 


sketches from Bert Hochwalt’s pen at the time of their publica- 
tion, several years ago, will appreciate the re-publication in 
more enduring form—an appropriate tribute to his zeal as a 
naturalist, his genuine manliness, and an abiding remembrance 
of the good influence that will be thus carried through life with 
those holding fond memories of one whose early death ended a 


most promising career. 


[13] 


MEMOIR 


“There was a boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs 
And islands of Winander!—many a time, 
At evening, when the earliest stars began 
To move along the edges of the hills, 
Rising or setting, would he stand alone, 


Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake.” 


William Wordsworth. ~ 


O the subject of this biographical sketch, could William 
Wordsworth have addressed his poem. From\his child- 
hood days there became manifest a great love/for the 


out-of-doors. In his boyhood hours and short-lived manhood 


days, his predominant interest lay in the Kingdom of the Birds; _,. 


Albert G. Hochwalt was born at Dayton, Ohio, ree 


1893. His parents were of families, well-known and highly 


respected in the community. The father, early< associated— 
with a group of literature-loving youth, was already atthe . 
birth of young Albert, a nature-writer and traveler./. Despite. 


the frequent absence, the parent’s love of birds, |became’ the | 


child’s possession. In addition to this early influence, the » 


abiding interest of a devoted mother who lived for her children, 


manifested itself in that finer feeling and sense of delicacy that 


made up the soul of the boy-naturalist. 


LARS 


————————— 


ee 


IN cen patie lintigts sede 
—_—, 


a nn ee 


ey co ert ent NE 


ee ans 


ff 
“ 


ID¥LUS OF BIRD LIFE 


et Guild's father, Albert Frederick Hochwalt, whose 


a 
> 
iF + 


NN nal appears in almost every out-door magazine of the 
\\ 


\ \gountry, is an authority on animal life. He was, undoubtedly, 
Ihe J Hoy’s first inspiration. Young Albert at the age of six, 
7) jhad, already acquired a knowledge of birds, and could dis- 
| _tinguish quite a number of them. The study of birds had 
cy the. senior Albert’s hobby, but the son was to take a still 

( A greater nereee He was indeed, an apt nature student. In 
thé pictures snapped, when the lad was ten years of age, his 

\ voy pose was one of conscious quest for the birds in the trees. 

) ,_pLearning to read, he turned naturally to the subject that 
a was. already i inspiring to his youthful mind. A collection of 
> fature books became one of his early ambitions. He would 
read for hours, following his author-guide in the adventures 
‘which he jwas \to duplicate in fact. Prolonged residence at 
“Highwood farm along the Stillwater River gave him oppor- 
\tunity to gain in bird lore. Here, shis=first«adventures were 
undértaken in the woods arid™ along the river bank. His 
library was a treasure trove for him. The books! were well 


thumbed. Upon” his réturn from evéty adventure i in birddom, 


he ae hasten to the authorities on the subject and seek C) 


“new! Hee Giima, solution to a new problem that/ bafiled him) 


ek 


\ 
\ 


\ 


™ 
\ 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


Young Albert had the ideal company of three-younger 
brothers who early learned to appreciate their big brother’s He 
terest in birds. No better companion could these boys find, than 
their father. He was playmate, instructor, guide and father to| 
the growing lads, and they responded whole-heartedly to the 
moulding influences of the paternal parent, “The eldest. son, 
however, was to resemble most the father i in literary talent ahd 


love of Nature. 


Young Albert’s jteachers in the elementary 1 


classes recall his interest in the collection of insects . and love : iy 


for observation. 


Here, he was already, an interesting. com: aA 


panion, manifesting an advanced knowledge in the denizens of “ie 


ee 


the woods. . il \ 
He attended the High School of the University of Dayton, 
_ from 1907-1911. 


lovevor flowers manifested itself. Huis interest in Nature quitk- Nace 


\ ened. | \Though at all times a good sportsman and ry ‘real Amer ‘ 


\ican boy, with his interest in baseball, peaeeroallt ‘lawn tennis, 


‘a study ‘of Nature at unlooked-for moments would: shold bis. 


attention, Because of this predominating interest some o/s 
For want. of a 
Th his 
second year of Eien School’ at the’age ‘of fifteen, Tie wrote his 


LT], 


classmates facetiously termed him “caveman.’ 


better name this word signified the- embryo naturalist/) 


During the time of his high s school career, a Yd 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


first Nature story. In the early winter of 1908 he spent a few 
days on the farm, “Highwood.” Upon his return home he 
penned his observations and submitted the article for publica- 
tion. It was accepted by the Sportsmen’s Review and ap- 
peared inthe January, 1909, issue under the title: “A Winter’s 
W alk in Highwood.” The die was cast. Bert, as young Albert 
was called, now resolved to observe Nature even more and to 
hectnas: the beauty thereof to all who would listen. 

His interest in walks increased, and many a companion 
unlearned in the beauties of Nature followed at first unwillingly, 
but returned with the deep interest of a convert, in the glory of 
création and eyes opened to new visions of Nature’s miracles. 
Notes taken on his observation-walks now took form and in 
1910; at the age of sixteen, he wrote the essay: “Birdlife in 
Spring.” It was published in the Sportsmen’s Review of the 
sanie-year. 

Bert G: Hochwalt finished High School in 1911 and entered 
the office of one of the public utilities of his native city, Dayton, 
Ohio. His days were spent in industrious work at the desk; 
but‘the love for the out-of-doors never deserted him. Every 
half-holiday and Sunday, along with the big vacations, he shook 


the city’s dust to roam in the woods or to paddle his canoe; but, 


[18 J 


IDYCUS/OF ‘BIRD’ LIFE 


all the while with that spirit of observation, that learned how to 
linger when fainter hearts grew weary. In 1914 he wrote, as a 
result of his observations, and at the request of Fred EK. Pond 
(Will Wildwood), the article: “The Romance of Mister and 
Mistress Bob White.” ‘This charming essay appeared/in /the 
holiday number of the Sportsmen’s Review. In the same 
issue appeared the article: “Our Feathered Winter Residents.” 
The following year saw the publication of ““The Robin’s Menu,” 
in the April issue of the Sportsmen’s Review. A yeat_atter 
he wrote, “The Blue Bird’s Repast,” and “The Robin, an/Insect 
Destroyer.” Besides showing the romance of bird-life, our 
youthful author could not lose sight of the practical value. 

To his filial affection for his parents and his admiration 
for the out-doors, a new love now entered his life. He wrote 
of romances, but he, too, was the hero of a charming romance 
with his lady-love. On the first day of the most beautiful month 
of May, 1917, Bert G. Hochwalt was married to Miss Praxides 
Marie Blandford. This charming young lady appreciated the 
‘tastes of the young benedict, and was his most appreciative Com- 
panion in his out-door studies. His great love for Nature was 
not to diminish; it was to be enhanced by the greater love, for 


the companion of his too short a life. 
[ 19 | 


ADYLLS OF BIRD LIFE™ 


Many had been the walks in the days of his courtship, but 
now they were to be more frequent. 

During the long vacation he left the city, and with his 
| young wife dwelt along the Miami in their little cabin, 
“Justamere Shack.” In these happy days of carefree hours, he 
could indulge to his heart’s content in his wanderings among 
the bird haunts of these shores. His cheery invitation, in tones 
ecstatic, called to come and see the glories of bird-land, never 
left him go alone. There was always a companion. To the 
uninitiated, however, there was the first remonstrance, “Do 
4 hot scare the birds,” and the second one, “Can’t you see?” 
i Oris: writing now kept pace with his notes. Among the 
“beautiful and \ ideal surroundings of “Justamere Shack’ he 
Prepared the essay: “Rambles of a Bird-Lover.” The walks 
that he took on the autumnal days of 1918 inspired the 
beautiful word-painting: “Autumn.” | 

A little fairy appeaked at his ‘home during this year. T he “a 
little Visitor was Miss Constance Marie Hochwalt. The father S 
heart rejoiced and a still greater sympathy was> -mattifested for 
thé singing: life i in 1 the forest. 
iy, A reserved interest in the habits of/ ld ra pee led him 
| Uk revisehis,notes of 1916 and to publish the study, entitled: 
L200] Vii 


hs 
~ 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


“Old Head Hunter.” It appeared in the magazine, “Birds and. 
Nature,” of 1918. 

On May 30, Decoration Day, of 1919, he attended the last 
family reunion at “Justamere Shack,” his ideal/haunt for bird- 
lore. Sure to leave the crowd, he returned to the wondering 
party with the invitation, “Let me show you a new bird-nest.” 


Bert Hochwalt was not unsociable, but he would be certain to 


go to his favorites, the birds, and share with them the time.of | 


his recreations. | \ 


The year 1919 promised to be one of unusual literary ? 


activity for the young author, who,was now assured of readers. er 


He was invited by a Nature Magazine to write) al bird article | 


each month. The notes and souvenirs. of his Aspibe were brought 


out from the desk and there evolved the folowing studies : 


“Home Building in the Bog,” 

“The Domestic Affairs of the Sora Resa 
“Bob Whites at Home,” 

“The Mallard’s Rendezvous;” 

“Afield in October.” | 


< 


Here was more than promise, but the: Lord of Nature loved 


| Wey ahat soul attuned to His Creation. 


[ 21 ] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


In July, 1919, commenced a siege of illness which de- 
veloped into a wasting affliction that finally took him from this 
earth in March, 1920. 

At one time during his illness a change of climate was 
sought to give him a fighting chance. At first he refused to take 
the proffered opportunity, for he could not leave his wife and 
child. “I’d rather be home with you,” was his justification. 

But even here, his love for his birds and the trees and flow- 
ers did not dampen. They brought him daily courage to fight 

“his losing battle. He appreciated his flower-laden apartment 
and noticed the birds whose music penetrated his room. 

A beautiful coincidence occurred in this last illness. All 
the winter of nineteen hundred and nineteen, two birds were VW 
fréquent, if not daily visitors at his residence on Forest Avenue. 7 

3 Ti the garden adjoining the house two robins with white stripes 
on-their backs came up to the very window of their Bperset tees ® | a 


brother. A> ie 


— \ > 
‘ 


In a final attempt to bring about a cure, the father induced. 
_ the son to accompany him on atrip South. He seemed to rally; 
but /his return home hurried the final summons to a new life. a. 


His last words were uttered! when someone, askéd"the name of @ JE 


f yy ~~, 


~*~ 


i 


IDYLUS*OF BIRD LIFE 


the bird now singing. The bird-lover answered: “The 
Cardinal.” 

Here was the passing of a great soul. —T’wenty-seven years 
old, on the eve of real authorship, he was called to an eternal 
life. His essays must not be read as if a series of technical 
studies, but as the true, yet romantic quest of the ‘bird’s 


troubadour. | 
J.O. ASHBURTON. 


[23] 


ry 
iyi 


4 


{DYELS OF BIRD LIFE 


A FEW OF THE BIRD FAMILY 


The Old Bob White, and chipbird ; 
The flicker and chee-wink, 

And little hopty-skip bird 

Along the river brink. 


The blackbird and snowbird, 
The chicken-hawk and crane; 

The glossy old black crowbird ; 
And buzzard down the lane. 


.. The yellowbird and redbird, 
\ The tom-tit and the Cate 
The thrush and that redhead bird 
\The rest’s all pickin’s at! 


| The jay-bird and the bluebird, 
| _/ The sap-suck and the wren— 
The cockadoodle-doo. bird; 
And our old settin’. hen’? \ 


James Whitcomb Riley. 


f2J 
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Sy Ones Yo ‘a 
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ea “ht, 
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— mE ee... ene ee eS E 
— an - 4 ae sa \ _ 
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¥ 


SPRING 


Hark! the hours are softly calling 
Bidding Spring arise, 

To listen to the rain-drops falling 
From the cloudy skies. 

To listen to, earth’s weary voices, 
Louder every day, 

Bidding her no longer linger 
On her charm’d way ; 

But hasten to her task of beauty 


Scarcely yet begun. 


r, 


Adelaide A. Proctor. 


ltt 
— > « 


nema 


SaaS et Sane 


~ 


———— 


——— 
a A 


SS 


BIRD LIFE IN SPRING 
“Hear how the birds on ev’ry blooming spray, 
With joyous music wake the dawning day.” 


Alexander Pope. 


S the last dreary days of Winter pass and the early ones 
of balmy Spring appear, the first feathered songsters 
begin to arrive from the Sunny South. Everything in 

Nature takes on a new lease of life, and everybody is joyous and 
light at heart. The fast returning birds fill sweet fragrant out- 
of-doors with their exquisite notes. Signs of re} uvenated Spring 
are seen everywhere. The naked trees of Winter take ona rich 
leafy covering, and the orchards are filled with the fragrant blos- 


soms of the pear, apple and cherry trees. Before youthful Spring 


_has fairly proceeded on its way, all of our feathered friends have 


arrived from their distant journeys. The orchards areé alive 


\with robins, catbirds, orioles, blue jays, bluebirds;wrens, car- 


dinals and scores of other songsters too numerous to™mention, 
As the weeks take on warmth and—verdure thése feathered 
neighbors begin their nesting season? It is concerning this mo 
ment in the bird’s life, around which I shall weave my story. 
One sunshiny afternoon, about the latter part of April, as 
I was.coming home’from school, I noticed a pair of blue jays 


[29] 


LOY ELS OE BIRD SELES 


flitting about a tall elm that stood along the road. They were 


apparently seeking a suitable place for a nesting site. Soon 


their nest would contain two or three greenish-colored eggs. 


I noted the fact and marked the tree. For several days after, I 
saw nothing of my new friends, and I decided that they must 


have selected a more secluded place for their home. About a 


week~after my discovery, I saw Mr. Jay carrying a twig, at 


‘about a quarter of a mile from the elm. As I walked along the 


‘road, noticing the rich display of Nature on every side of me, 


{ happened to see that Mr. Jay had flown down toward the tree. 
IT hastened along the macadamized road until I came to the spot, 
and>there, sure enough, this restless bit of anatomy was busy 
constructing a rude nest, which, because of its high altitude, 


appeared to be of the same color as its surroundings. As soon 


. / as Tmade my appearance, and as long as I remained watching 
| these busy marauders, they kept up a constant screaming, which, 


seemed to} me as if they were trying to tell me in blue- jay Pio 


For several weeks after I continued to watch the jays, Aras 


Mr./Jay sat in a nearby oak, teday to defend he ‘brooding mate 


[ 30 ] 


ja neuage, to anal my own business. } ae a 


: finally the mother took to the nest. As I passed day after day, s 


> 
Fn 


TIDY EUS FOR BURDILIEE 


from the chance attacks of passing hawks or other bird ene- 

mies. I did not attempt to disturb these birds while they were 

brooding. One day as I passed, I saw the nest minus Mother 

Jay, and knowing that she had gone off to feed, I quickly ‘ Ae 

climbed the tree, and with some difficulty succeeded in reaching | } | 
| 


the rude abode. There, on a soft lining of horsehair, Deepa bly 


gathered along the road, I saw the prettiest little eggs imagin- ~ \ | | 
able. They were three in number, and about as big ag a robin’s y | t 
~ egg, greenish-yellow in color, sprinkled here and there with : an f 
7 reddish-brown and dull lilac spots. yee os b> vi } : 
an In due time three featherless jays sprang into/ eristence/ Ne | i 
i and they kept their parents busy filling the little hung sty route wi N | J 
\ About four days after their entry into this world, I éimbed up b iF! 


'\ to their rough but secure home, and viewed the feathetless, halin 

| starved little fellows. Their eyes were still closed, (and they 192 

\, thrust their tiny bodies about in a blind fashion. | ue ead ) ‘i i L 
‘ Owing to our spring vacation, which occurred At‘this time, is 

a I did not have occasion to visit the jay family, after nt} second 
intrusion into their home. But when school resumed; about 


\ 

i 

__ two weeks later, I saw two of the young Jays perched on a Lp NG | 4 | 
above their home and ready to launch out into the cruel world, | 


[3h] 


{DYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


and shift for themselves. What had become of the other fellow? 
I cannot say, but I hope that some swooping hawk did not make 
\\a breakfast on its diminutive body. After this I necessarily 


severed my connections with my blue jay acquaintances. 


It was on a warm afternoon, in the middle of May, during 
a\lull in a hotly-contested tennis game, while resting with a 
number of companions in the cool shade of a row of sweet 
syringas that bordered the court, that I was attracted by hearing 
the rustle of leaves directly back of me and about five feet from 
the ground. Curious to know the nature of the commotion, | 
began an investigation, and after five or ten minutes, I was too 
excited to take\the exact time, I found the ragged but well-made 
nest of a pair of catbirds. It was the “papa bird” who had dis- 
turbed me while he was busy feeding his-modest little brown- 
eyed mate, who sat silently brooding over her nest, apparently 
undisturbed by this close proximity of danger. 

As soon as I discovered this précious, chance of studying 
the catbird and its habits, I lost all interest in the tennis game, 


although it)was my serve, the score was forty love, and I had,a 


[| 32 | 


Ny 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


girl friend for my partner. We decided to quit the game for that 
afternoon, so as not to disturb the little brooding mother in the 
nearby bushes. The next morning, although Jupiter Pluvius 


7 7 , 


1ad opened the flood gates of heaven and the-rain was coming 
down in torrents, I visited my newly-discovered feathered 
light I found that the rain had left the nest 
untouched. Not to take any chances] hastily built-a-sort of 
shelter to protect the brooding bird. By noon the clouds shifted, 
and old Sol again smiled upon the earth. This same day was 
the last I saw of my catbird friends), All during the time the 
catbird’s mate was brooding, his long, glorious song~second 


he bell bird or woedthrush-in exquisiteness of 


O 
. 
“| 
et 
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t- 
fo 
cr 
O 
bet 
ov 


tone, was heard throughout the day. I did not get to see the 
five pretty dark green-blue eggs, as they_had quickened before 
I distovered the pair. The mother bird scarcely left the nest, 
save to ‘trim her glossy black and slatey-colored feathers early 
in the morning. Despite my early rising one morning at half 
past four, to get a peep at the contents of the nest, it appeared 


had secured double trimming the-day before, inasmuch 


- 


bets 
5 * 
ca) 


as ifs 


Le 2) 


as she remained brooding all day. 
About ten days after my discovery, 4 saw, while strolling 
through the orchard back ofthe house, the mother bird busily 


| = 
' 2 


_ _ 


‘ao 


~~ ee ene eee 


IDYLUS: OF BIRDUEIFE 


gathering food. At my approach she hastily flew in the direc- 
tion of the syringa bushes, and I guessed that the young were 
-out a0, the shell. When I reached the nest I found that I had 
‘ guessed rightly. Five hungry little downy birds thrust their 
heads out\of the nest. The mother bird had been there before 


ay approach, and now the father appeared, and fearlessly 


‘epagred the nest and gave his supply of food to the hungry 
Cage This industrious pair of little workers had more than 
/they could take care of in supplying the babes. Occasionally 

vi i} hélped them along, by bringing berries and crumbs, and I soon 
ition their entire confidence. In about ten days the young left 

| | phe nest) and, as these neighborly birds are summer residents, 

| Swe had the profound pleasure of listening to their sweet song 
ue rie through ‘the long weeks of summer and autumn, until the 


\ ty 
3 \d fmisravoty period took them southward. 


> Aa evening in early May, just as twilight was beginning 

‘fo pervade the atmosphere, I was coming through an open 

@ “woods, a short-cut from the city to my home, when | heard, ae 
<\4 | 


‘clear, ‘distinct song of a brown thrasher as hé) was bidding an=) | 


Neh othe Gey goodbye. The song. ‘that reached my eats came from 


“yA \j f } 5 


‘searched about for an hour, but with no success. 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


the wood to the left of me, and having plenty of time I deter- 
mined to discover the possessor of that exquisite song. Care- 
fully threading my way over the thick carpet of the last year’s 
leaves, I had proceeded about a hundred feet, when I perceived 


the most beautiful brown thrasher of my birdy career. He, fvas 


sitting on the topmost branch of a red haw, and his aafl kept tof 


twitching and wagging about as if to help him express his 


emotions. As soon as he saw me, for | had unnecessatily. eX- 


\ 


ag \ 


i 


. 
& Ying ~~ 


posed myself, he was off like a flash, and I knew that my ‘chances' SL Asi 


About a week tater 
} 


for it was now time for the thrasher to mate, I made'a speciglé 


for seeing him again that night were gone. 


 ¢ 


} 


trip to the woods to look for the nest which I thought must. fhe 


there. I began by searching the low shrubs and bushes; being 


unsuccessful after two hours of hard work, and as it had grown” 


dark, I gave up my search for that night, but not without hope 
of finding the thrasher’s abode. 
glimpse of the male as he darted through the trees, and I 


Ni ae after 


‘night I continued the hunt, and at last, after a week of LediAls 


<work, L discovered in a low briar bush a rather bulky nest, made 


of twigs, park leaves, tendrils, roots, and lined with horse ‘hair 


ie 


Once I caught a fleeting 4 


ty 


ge 


be. © 


ee ee 
tg net tno a tg 


2 


fi 


7 =< 


/ 


fi os Vii 
IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE ~* 


Pn 


and a few feathers. The mother bird must have been off feed- 
ing, as the was nowhere to be seen, and four bluish-white or 
greenish colored eggs, about the size of a robin’s egg, were to be 
seen in the nest. I did not tarry long, but carefully marked 
the placéand hurried away. 

About a week later, | paid a visit to the thrashers, intent 
upon making a study of the young birds. I went straight to 
where I had marked the location of the nest, but I could not 
find it. Further searching failed to reveal their domicile, and 
I began an investigation of the nest. The thrashers’ home had 
been in the center part of the bramble bush about three feet 
from-the ground. I could see where some heavy body had 
pushed its.way through the brambles to get to the nest. Next, 
I discovered footprints, and the prints being of medium size I 
concluded that some ignorant young “rube” who didn’t have 
sense enough to know the value of a nest full of thrashers’ eggs, 
had stolen them to add to his collection: ~b.was angry with a 
righteous indignation. Had J caught the fellow, I do not cae 
if he had been a six-footer, I would have proved to him that 
hereafter he had better leave his hands off the things that did 
not belong to him. I wended my way home, feeling sorry for 


the beautiful.birds, whose home had been despoiled by some 


[ 36 | 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


thoughtless fellow. I reported the affair to a game warden, and 


I asked him to keep a sharp lookout for further depredations. 


One of our commonest, and one of ‘the most delightful of 
our summer birds, is the robin. A pair of them built their nest, 
consisting of mud and sticks plastered together and lined with 
grass, in a big maple that partly shades the veranda which ex- 
tends about the front and two sides of our house. Early in 
April the glad “cheer up, dearie! cheer up, dearie, cheer. up! 
cheer up!” of the pair could be heard. In due time the 
mother bird began to nest and-brooded faithfully over four 
pale blue eggs. The cheerful red-breasted mate supplied 
_her with grubs and insects, and later on-berries and such table 
scraps\as I always made it my business to prepare for them. 
The birds were very tame, and they would hop about the place, 
picking up food here and there, and very often fly up within a 
\ féw feet of the kitchen door, to take the food they found there. 

‘One day as I was sitting in the library reading of the trials 
and tribulations of Becky Sharp in Thackeray’s Vanity Fair, I 
“heard the loud, excited “kip! kip! kip! of my robin friends, as 


if they were calling for me....I went out to learn the cause of the 


egal 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


excitement and saw a big black cat that belonged to one of the 
neighbors about to pounce upon poor mother robin, who was 
bravely defending hereggs. Hastily seizing a good-sized stone 
I Rarted it at that cat. The throw was tele and [ don’t sup- 
pose he knew what struck him until about five minutes after- 
wards. As soon as he collected his wits he was off, and up to this 
day, be has not disturbed a bird about our premises. 
a EKbout the last of May the robins were hatched, and now 
was the busy time for the father and mother, who were kept at 
| work early in the morning until late at night feeding the four 
hungry birdlets. The youngsters developed fast, and it seemed 
that the faster they grew the more they ate, until finally they 
hd the poor parents working overtime; I also helped to feed 


them. ‘In about eleven days the young birds were able to leave Vr 


ff i 
“the nest, and then I saw them no more, as they generally take / 


\ 
\N\ 
/ 
/ | \ * 
_—- 


however, visited me almost every day, and ate the food I PFO} ( 


Ny { 
\ 


“Ao the deep woods after the brooding season. The old birds, 


¥ ied for. them. 


At was the third Sunday in May and a bright sunny after-» .: 


noon when a crowd of rhe and pirls, my self inehided, decided 


[ 38 ] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


to go violet gathering. We took the one o’clock car out of town, 
and arrived at our destination, a beautiful spot, an hour later. 
We knew where these dainty blossoms were very plentiful, and 
here we hastened our youthful steps. Soon we were reveling 
in the midst of a patch of blue violets, which seemed almost an 
acre in extent. We were coming over from the car when I -héard 
the plaintive whistle of a quail in the nearby stubble. It was the 


nesting season of the quail or Bob White. I slipped away from 


the crowd, lost all interest in the violet expedition, and hastened 


toward the stubble from whence I heard the call. I jumped an\ 


old snake fence, the abode of thousands of insects, and skirted 


it down to where I heard the call. Here a tiny babbling broely/ 


threaded its silver course and was lost in the woods byondtL” 
carried a stout stick, which I used to poke with among the 
erasses. Directly across the brook in a spot shaded by-a giant 


/ hickory, a whir reached my ears, and I saw a quail go whirling 


through the trees. Then it did not take me long to find the nest, 


\which was on the ground in a corner of the fen¢e, roughly 


| atched, and made of grasses, leaves, wood, weeds and straw, 


clecsly put together. This loosely compiled nest contained” 


sixteen of the most beautiful pure white eggs, about a day,old, 


“and I became elated over my find. I again marked the-place, 
pig 


[432 


f 


Py, 


(YLLS OF BIRD LIFE ~ 


but thisytime I confidently hoped to find the nest safe when I 
came back. Then I rejoined the bunch, and had to answer a 
\\thousand and one questions regarding my new feathered 
friends. 

We continued picking the small blue beauties and were 
so absorbed in our task that we did not think of the hour until 
the slanting rays of the sun lighting up the edge of the meadow 
‘and tinting the trees in the distance with a dull gold, warned us 
that it was time “to fold up our tents like the Arabs, and steal 


> 


away.” I reached home that night just as soft evening gently 
and slowly stole over the world, and silently, one by one, the 
stars began dotting the heavens. 

I did not visit the quail nest until about two weeks after 
my discovery., As it takes about twenty-four days, however, to 
hatch.a brood, both-birds assisting in the incubation, I decided 
to make another journey to the place. I finally found the op- 
portunity.. When I reached theirshome, the-mother bird was 
silently brooding, and her eggs must have quickened, as she was 
not inclined to flight as is usually the case, and so.I-did not dis- 
turb her. To’show that I was her friend I distributed some 
crumbs about the nest. After this, every two days I visited 
them, and when I came, sometimes the male, and sometimes the 


[ 40 | 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


female was present. In about ten days’ time the brood was 
hatched. The little downy Bob Whites, comicalto behold, fae 
lowed their parents about the ground, learning from both of 
them which berries, seeds and grasses they might eat. As ] was 
watching them one day the mother bird uttered a shrill “wee 
teek” and instantly the whole bevy, as a flock is-called in sports- 
man’s parlance, ran to the protecting wings of their mother. 
About a week later I again visited the nest. ‘This time the birds 
were nowhere to be seen; they had probably located\in) the 
woods hard by, as the weather was unusually warm for this 


time of the year. 


{ 


One evening while returning from a visit to my quail 
friends, I heard the rich, mellow “cheo! cheo! cheo!” of a car- 
. dinal in a willow that overhung the river. I followéd the course 
‘of the stream about a mile. The surrounding country was a 
typical place for red birds and I heard no less than four of these 
sweet songsters during that whole glorious ride. I did not stop 
to investigate the haunts of this American nightingale, as it 
was-late in the evening, and I had to-hurry home. The next 


day being Saturday, and Tafose just as the first gray streaks 


Lid 


IDYLLS OF BIRD.LIFE 


of dawn began to brighten the western horizon, intent upon 
getting acquainted with the possessor of that sweet song | had 
heard'the night before. 

I was well on my way of exploration before the rosy-hued 


horizon-overtook me. After an hour’s steady walking I heard 


a faint “cheo! cheo! cheo!” sounding. I took my rifle, which I 
‘Usually carried on such expeditions as this one, and strode 
fqhickly into the thick line of trees that skirted the river. The 
/stream, by the way, scarcely deserved the name of'river, as it 


Was not much more than a mere mud hole, and dry during half 


vthe year. At the present time it contained about four feet of 


"\) /tearing my clothes on the sharp thorns of the bushes, scratching \ 
i my. face and hands, and once I sank ankle-deep into some nee 


\ caused by; the rain. As I continued down the edge of the stream, » of 
assy over my head, and without warning a female cardinal — 
\\\ | head, I saw her nest, situated about six feet’ from. the ground) 


\\\\Ah 
Wied) 


wlazily-running water. The edge of the stream was a thickly- 


\ “mattéed‘mass of wild rose, blackberry bushes, and grape vines ; Af 
y by DS 


a typical nesting location of the cardinal. 1 scrambled about, 


peerine into every bush that might contain a nest, a red sen 


; 
flew past me down the stream. Looking up directly over ny 


—s 


‘Vs gi \ 


. 8 
“ih a ilooming dogwood, overgrown with wild’ grapévines, twigky ts A 


Ay 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


tendrils, and roots, heavily intertwined with grass. The eggs 
were four in number, and bluish white, mottled over with 
brownish and dark lavender specks which gave them a beautiful | 
appearance. After examining the nest and its surroundings, 
I sat down on a nearby log to rest. Since the cardinal was one 
of my favorite acquaintances of our feathered neighbors; I de- 
cided to tarry. I saw Mrs. Cardinal across the way Lptlatey aah 


anxiously for me to leave. As soon as I perceived this, ({ moved 


\ 


We sat down. Presently I saw the faithful aristocratic little bird? 


dart across the river and settle upon her nest. (Caan { 


- iN 


While sitting on the moss-covered logs I besah to feet 
\ rather sleepy, and as I had risen very early that morning I was 
‘soon dozing off into the arms of gentle Morpheus. i do not 


“know how long I had been oblivious of my surroundings, but, 
/ 


< / as | am an easy sleeper, | was awakened by feeling something 


\\creepy passing over my feet. I quickly opened my eyes and was “ 


horrified at seeing a very large water moccasin or “ 
no ) 


RX “mouthed” snake gliding over me. Apparently, I was co 


cotton- 


new to him, and at every move he would stop to investigate. 
rene, that this specimen of snake is very poisonous, ‘I reé-/ 


¥ Being as s quiet as use See gece my heart, which was beat, Yi 


, ; yi A a 
Ver Sw se f 
4 lik’ Ve) 
' UAV 


back the way I had come, about a hundred yards, and ‘again. ‘ i us 


ADYELS OF BIRD LIFE ~ 


ing like-a trip-hammer, nearly betrayed me. After about fif- 
Cen minutes, the worst I had passed through in my life, the 
snake moved on. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he glided leisurely 
away. I picked up my rifle and vowed that he would never 
bother‘anyone again. Taking careful aim, although the sight 
was somewhat shaky before my eyes, I fired, hitting him 
squarelyin the head. After quivering a few moments, in which 
his tail thrashed about wildly, he stretched his full length and 
lay still. I left him lying where he fell, and bothered no more 
about him. The morning had well advanced, so I quickly got 
out of the woods and made for home. 

About two weeks after my acquaintance with the “reddest 
red bird”, I had ever seen, I approached the nest, and found to 
my delight that it had been usurped by four tiny, hunery birds, 
who kept their parents busy supplying them with TOOdaMi LIne 
few weeks they were old enough to leave the nest, and four more 
red beauties were added to our neighborhood to help cheer us up 
during the long Winter months. 

On many a green branch swinging, 

Little birdlets singing 

Watble sweet notes in the air. 
Flowers fair 


There I found. 
Green spread the meadow all around. 


wd. | 


Nithart. 


THE ROMANCE OF MISTER AND MISTRESS 
BOB WHITE AND FAMILY 


“Sweet now at morn and eve the quail 
Repeats his plaintive, whistling note, 
And softly fall the answering cries 
That over wood and corn-field float.” 


McLellan. 


HILE strolling through a stubble field one bright, 
balmy morning in the early Spring of nineteen hun- 
dred thirteen, the clear, staccato call of a Bob White 

came to me on the clarified morning breeze from an adjoining 
corn field. I paused a moment to listen to those enchanting 
notes which are music to the sportsman’s ear. Again, “Bob 
White! ah, Bob White!” rang out clear-and pure from the 
corn field. This time an answering “Bob White!” emanated 
from the stubble. The whistle was repeated and answered nu- 
merous times that morning, for it was the mating season of these 
game birds. 
They say that in the domain of Bob White, mates are not 
easily won, and in one particular case I can vouch for the state- 
ment. With the aid of a pair of field glasses and a screen of 


blackberry bushes, I witnessed a most thrilling battle between 


[45] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


rival males. They would come at each other with the fury of 
game cocks, fighting desperately, pecking and striking at each 
other as if their lives depended upon the issue, and, indeed it 
did; for in that fight the love of a sweetheart was involved. All 
his while the object of their attentions, the little brown de- 
mure Miss Bob White, was perched on a stump nearby, viewing 


with_evident satisfaction the battle, which was staged on her 
Pg 


sdccount. Finally, the vanquished bird, thoroughly beaten, 
slowly retreated; and, with an envious eye watched from a dis- 
tance, the proud victor strutting about before his queen; she, 
by a seeming indifference, concealed her admiration for her 
hero. The attitude of the female bird only added to his anger. 
Spying the disgruntled rival, the conqueror sent him into igno- 
minious flight by a few well directed blows. 

aN few weeks after this episode I re-visited the locality, 


Whicli was eoniy a short distance from town, intent upon finding 


my newly-acquired Bob White friends. To my delight, I dis-} ( 
covered both birds busily engaged in collecting grasses, leaves: we 
and mosses for a large, clumsy nest, that was being made on the f. 
old worm-eaten rail fences. It was a perfect place for con- 2a 


cealment; blackberry bushes concealed it from the hungry eyés. | 


Bp 
of passing hawks, and the depredations of mischievous boys, 


Use 


— 


: 1" 
: “s Jf | 
‘ oe, 


». 


aa 
SBN 


/ quietly and quickly left the vicinity. 


+ 
| 


uttering his cheery notes from morning until night. | He is very 


LY es Odo LO i LEE 


Food was to be had in plenty, for a corn field was partly enclosed 

by one of the fences, and the other surrounded an old stubble 

field. Adjacent to this site was a blackberry thicket where the 

fruit was available in season. At intervals the cock bird would ~ 

pause in his work, mount the top rail of the fence, and boldly 

utter his “Bob White! ah, Bob White!” which his denture mate _ 

coyly answered by her unobtrusive notes, which, rararorera rede 4 


}?? 


by human methods, sounds like “Here’s me 


\ 
\ . / 
4 ‘ / 
/ 


Several weeks slipped by; the season was early May when.—.y/* — > 
LY “tirnye— |\ 


I again visited the nest. It contained fourteen creamy eggs) > ) 
arranged with the utmost care, so as to economize space. On/ fi By 
this occasion I saw neither of the birds. They probably were” \ 
\\ feeding; but, as both male and female assist in the incubation, I 


\ I knew that one of them would be back in a short time, sol / } 


During the twenty-four days it requires for incubation © 


_+the male Bob White is much in evidence, strutting about and 


fearless during this time and will endanger his own life-trying 

to distract the attention of some enemy from his silent brood- 

ing mate and her nest full of eggs. Mistress Bob White 1s sel- 
[ 47] 


4* 


fV1AS OF BIRD LIFE © 


dom if ever seen during this period; she being busily engaged 
witht he eges and scarcely finding the time to snatch a few 
\ mouthfuls of food. Her consort covers the nest during her 
absence. 
! »Onéjorning just as Aurora was casting her spell upon the 
earth, I stole out to see how Mr. and Mrs. Bob White and the 
\ nest full of eggs were faring. As I was crossing the road that 
leads up to the corn field in which their home was located, I 
saw the birds leading a flock of downy little ones into a wood 
patch on the other side of the road. I counted twelve chicks, 
Nas they scampered for safety under leaves and other available 
hiding placessat my approach. 

It was very\interesting watching this brood of Bob Whites 
follow their mother about, for in this they are precisely the 
same as young chicks in charge of the mother hen. They soon 
learned what hemes cereals, seeds and grasses they must eat. 
The) parént birds are untiring in\theiréfforts to protect their 
young. The mother bird on the approach of an enemy, will 
utter a shrill warning “wee-teek !’”and, while all-the’ youngsters 
aré scampering for a place of safetx she feigns lameness or re- 
sorts to some other artifice in her endeavors to lead the enemy 


in-another’direction. 


[ 48] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


About a month subsequent to the foregoing episode, I paid 
another visit to this interesting bird family. I found that the 
young had grown wonderfully during that time and were now. 
so nearly their full size that it was difficult to‘distinguish them 
from the adult birds. They could now tasily, provide for them- | 
selves, but at the least approach of danger they would scamper 
to places of safety in the same manner = when they were.downy 
chicks. If one remained very quietly in his place of vantage 
where he could not be seen, he ws rewarded by hearingthe 
faint but pathetic “Loi! loi! loi!” asthe mother called her brood‘ 
to her and endeavored to gathet them under her protecting 
wings. ‘These were, however, quite unequal.to the occasion 
since her family had grown so large. | 

The Summer days passed and ‘the birds were now. full 


grown. From out of the meadows and the stubble came the 
\ whistle, “Bob White! ah, Bob White!” clear and distinct as in 
-_ \the early) days of Spring, for the young were now: fully grown 
and just as sure on their wings as their parents, One clear, 
frosty peering in early November, I atcidentally discovered 
the bevy, huddled together in a protecting covert, alaleiar ake 
not having yet stirred about for their-morning meal. ‘It 1s/not 
often that one is enabled to-approach a bevy like this, but for 


— 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


once fortune was with me. I approached very carefully, and 
as they flushed I counted twelve birds, including the parents, 
which, of course, could not be distinguished. There were two 
_mnissing, and I presumed those were young birds who had fallen 
--WVictiins to\some swooping hawk or prowling fox. 
Next ne man, the hawk and the fox, notwithstanding many 


St ¢éments made to the contrary, are the worst enemies of the 
w 


ffi 
“es 


quail. So sudden is their attack, that the poor, frightened birds 
| On have a chance to escape. The laws of Ohio have pro- 
i Whibitéd quail shooting for two years, so at least my bird family 
/ig0immune from fatalities on that score during the Winter. 
\\ A view of the fact that the young birds were now full grown, 
\ I felt that there was a reasonable chance of the bevy getting 


Pay, j through the season unless the weather became too inclement. 


bon ff SEz J 


\ A (King Winter was coming on in leaps and bounds, and I resolved 


< “to befriend my little proteges wherever I could. 


} 
“December went by rapidly and January was ushered 1 in, }\ eg 


\cotd and severe. 1 awoke one morning to find it snowing, and” a Ss 

pon looking out I saw that the ground was covered to a depth — = 
| “of nearly a foot. Immediately I thought of my poor Bobs eXh,. y* 
i “posed to all the rigors of this wintry morning, ‘and, a Heaiedee to. si 

help fipem if possible. So dofinine heavy clothing: and substan“) \ 
al , [ 50 i Oh 


ff ; 


eg 


\ 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


tial footwear, | started out with a big bag of cracked corn and 


wheat, another of marble dust, a water pan and a small axe. 


The marble dust or its equivalent is one of the essentials toward 


keeping birds alive in the winter, for unless they have some 
kind of grit, which aids in the digestion of their food,’ all, the 
other provisions are of no avail. They cannot live aa nOut 
something of this nature. 

When I reached the coverts which the birds used, eave 
down a sapling, selected two forked boughs for uprights and 
drove them into the ground, allowing about two feet 1 in height 
Upon each of these I placed a straight branch and thet pat the / 
branches and twigs crosswise on these, thus forming a slantipg 
shelter two feet high in front and sloping to the eround i in the 


rear. From the adjoining corn field I gathered fodder, which I 


ond 


\ &,~ 
= 


i és) < \ 
‘SF Leen 


placed on this retreat to make it impervious to snow and-mois“—— 


ture, and then upon the top, more boughs were placed to-give the 


\improvised lean-to an appearance that harmonized with the sur- 


toundings. When my work was done I was well pleased with 


\the result, for it formed a perfect shelter which would protect 
any bird that might make use of it in the most inclement 
weather. scraped the snow away inside and scattered thé food 


that I brought with me, and also the sand and the pee which I 


Ee 


i) f ai, ' i iit 
ws \ Di i babies itand bo 


p | } 
f ft oa 
Al ay 


Py f/ 


ADYWAS OF BIRD LIFE 


filled with water from the brook. The opening of this little 


she@thced the south, so that the birds might be protected from 
\ the noe wind. Before leaving the place I searched about the 
vicinity to see how the birds had weathered the storm. Under 
ik 7 fa lofy-hauBing cedar on the edge of an adjoining piece of timber 
7 ‘ land, I found traces which indicated that my birds had found 
-shelter‘from the severe northerly blasts. I did not see the Bob 
Whites this particular morning; they were probably out feed- 

ing as best they could among the snowdrifts. 
It was still snowing when I started for the city, about two 
ae miles-distant. The immaculate white landscape and its beauti- 
ful surroundings were formed into a blurry vision as the snow 
was blown about in a blinding disarray. Even at that I was 
not alone/in my Shilly walk to town. A tiny tufted titmouse 


and several chickadees that accompanied me part of the way tt 


= 


kept cheering me.on with their sweet twittering, hopping from ,/ 
twig to‘twig a/few feet above my head; maintaining their ince 
sant chatter. It was bird cheer of the most entrancitig variety 
fora day like this: A-red flash flared ahead of meas a cardinal 
flitted from a snow-laden shelter in quest of food, but I doubt 


if he was,successful. A rabbit started from his form ina patch.“ 


[52] 


IDYLLS* OF BIRD LIFE 


of weeds as I tramped on. Within an hour’s time I was at-home 
by a crackling fire, making notes of what I had seen that won- \ | 
derful morning, for I hoped to use them at some future time. | ti 
The next morning dawned clear, bright and very cold. I 
was at the bird shelter long before the thin crescent of a-silvery 
moon had slipped from a western sky. 1 approached the place 
quietly, but a loud “Whirr-r-r-r!” proclaimed that the birds | i 
were on the alert. They had evidently found the place the day | | 
before, and that was all that was necessary. The food-which : ti ; 
had been placed there for them was all. gone, so I quitkly scat- | : 
tered a new supply of cracked aor wheat. and.other/food, ret i 
plenishing the water by breaking the ice in the brook and filling 
the pan. I then concealed myself behind a clump of cedars to 
~ await. developments. In a few minutes several chickadees, : ) 


\ probably my friends of yesterday, came down to breakfast. In 


a 


a about an hour, which was the coldest period J ever experienced, 


i 


the whole’ bevy of quail, twelve in all, returned. While the 
| ite were feeding, one of their number would act as guard to 
warn the others of any danger. They were‘all plump and beau- 

J tifully mottled, their rich chestnut and-grey markings contrast- 


ing nicely against the white foreground of their surroundings. 


[ 53 ] 


a et Oe ee 
a aati a se 2 
ge ee tit : ee = 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


[ quietly withdrew without flushing them, happy that I “EK 
able to provide food and shelter for such beautiful birds, which 
are without a doubt the noblest of all game varieties. 

i f Tpasee day or two throughout the long Winter months I fed 
“the birds, and within several weeks’ time I had succeeded in 
greatly diminishing their fear of me; I could approach within 
| ten f€et without disturbing them. The Bob White has refused 
5 pene domesticated, yet, a firm friendship may be estab- 
/ lished with him by adopting the methods | have related. 

| “Although that Winter lingered long and wearily, it was 
\fifially obliged to succumb to the pleasant sunshine and the 
South winds that came with the approach of mid-April. Ona 
brightiafternoon of that month I had an opportunity to get away be 
u from other labors, and I went out to find my bevy of Bob | 
\ / Whites. As I came in sight of the familiar fields of stubble and NN 


meadow, the clarion-like notes, “Bob White! ah, Bob White!’ 


e. 
i ‘ 


welled from a half-score of throats, emanating from the woods’. a al 
‘to theeleft, the wheat on the right, and the corn just beyond e 
The family had evidently separated, as is customary when the 7 q 
i mating season begins; no doubt some of the young birds were fe 

thinking of going to housekeeping on their own agguentiilaee \ oq 


[ 54] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


Perhaps some of these were within a short distance of their 
winter’s headquarters, perhaps some had gone farther away. 
The old birds, however, remained practically in the same spot 
where they raised their brood the year before. 

I still watch over my proteges of last winter and/so far 


they are faring nicely. If the young survive the winter, Fhope 


to be able to tell of their courtships and their loves, their j joys<.<" 


and their sorrows, in some future paper. 


bo 
\ \ 


“The song-birds leave us at the summer’s close, — i wy, \a? aa 
Only the empty nests are left behind— C( \ Lae 
And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.” | : 
Longfetow I, 4 
/ 


[ 55] 


“HOME BUILDING IN THE BOG 


“Where scarce the sunspears, quivering bright, 
May pierce the foliage with their light, 
Ah! there so shadowy sleeps the wood 
Where hermit woodcock seek their food.” 
McLellan. 


ATERIBUTE to the kindness of a friend my first observa- 
tion of the breeding habits of a pair of woodcock. 

While out for a stroll one early Spring day last year 
he flushed a female woodcock from her nest. Immediately, 
upon his return home he reported his find, knowing that such a 
discovery would be of great interest to me. His description of 
the location\of the nest tallies with the place where I had also 
found a Mallard duck’s nest the previous year. I knew this 
ground very well, as Ihad spent some of the most delightful 
days in the open with the birds of this locality. 

Next morning found me on my way to the nest before the 
break of day. A fine mist was falling, blown by. a west wind 
which made walking anything but a pleasure, just one of the 
many inconveniences a bird lover has to contend with while in 


quest of his favorite hobby or study. 


[56 ] 


IDYLUS TOP BIRD: LIFE 


The first gray streak of light in the east proclaimed _ the 
advent of day as I arrived at the location given me by my 
friend, a strip of woods which bordered a large field. 

As the light grew stronger I started my search for the 
nest. I had proceeded about a hundred feet, into the heart of 
the ens! when without warning, a loud whirrof wings startled 
me with its suddenness. I saw a Basal streak go sailing be- 
tween the trees then disappear into the adjoining fields. Cau- 
tiously, I advanced to where | heard tie bird rustle. ‘Near’an 
old rotten stump I found the nest,just as, my kind friend had 
told me. | 

On a few dry leaves which Beryed as-a-nest I found three 
buffy eggs, spotted with reddish brown, the home of a pair of 

; an woodcock. As this species usually lays four eggs, t-had reason 
Vj to believe the set was not complete. Not caring to let the eggs 
\\ chill, I left them, hoping the mother bird would return soon. 
I lingered about the spot for about twenty minutes and finally 
I had the satisfaction of seeing the faithful mother bird fly back 

to the nest. | 
On my way home I had to pass through a swampy bit of 


land; and in here I noticed>many neatly bored holes, showing 


[57 | 


IDYLUS OF BIRD LIFE 


plainly the work of woodcock in search of angleworms, their 
staple food. I also flushed two birds in this swamp. 

_fxbout four days later I was at the woodcock’s home bright 

; and wie The eggs were uncovered and I found four this time, 

rea proving that the set had not been completed at the time of my 


Fs first visit to the nest. The female bird was probably down at 


(ypfiiane getting a breakfast of angleworms. I carefully hid 
favselt behind a thick clump of bare saplings about ten feet 
jaway and awaited her return. In about half an hour she came 
(saiping over the field and into the woods. Alighting near the 
\ Vik { iniest she looked at the eggs, then, turning them over with her 
Son \ | Jong bill} quietly settled upon them, assuming her task of incu- 
a~\ un bation. Qn the edge of the woods I flushed a male, probably _ , i 


3 } ‘the mate of the nesting bird. ‘They are always to be seen near ‘7 


LEG 


és 
<2 


iv hei faithful brown-eyed little wives. i 
Rin his particular morning was a glorious one. The resurrec-  ({~ 


ee aon | ‘tion. ae Spring was at hand. The trees were beginning to assume | h a 


aon y. 
: sali a greenish tint and early vernal flowers were nodding to the = 


S paals The Spring migrants on their way north, paused in => 


i 


g their soa among the trees long eet to render sweet, 


ateet (rate, 


58.) 


‘of IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


Knowing the woodcock to be nocturnal in its habits I de- 
cided to pay this pair a call at night. 

One evening about two weeks after my first visit with the__ 
woodcock I crept silently into the woods that sheltered their 
home, just as dusk was settling over the earth. The voice of 


ton 


most of the feathered folk had already been stilled for the night, 


ey os" f 
save one woodthrush, that had arrived a little earlier than ~ 
usual from his Winter sojourn. He was gently tolling the pass- 

y Peet A Pond 
~. ingot another day, from somewhere in the woods. re eM iv fy’ 


be As I glided into my improvised blind, I noticed the? ree f 
Ee woodcock on the nest. Her brownish, mottled back, \biendpd f i 


| Fi Hh, fo | se 
ch perfectly with her surroundings; a wonderful example of pice 7 


cae 


__ \ tective coloration, making it difficult, at first, for me to find her. 


N \ \ 


!\ While I lay crouched low behind my screen of trees I saw, 

| heretofore unnnoticed, the male bird strut into a cledred space 
a / about ten feet square and about twenty feet from the nest. Then 
: )\began one of the greatest aerial stunts I had ever witnessed. 
pL Misine up in a spiral to about forty or fifty feet, efirpikge 
“some unintelligible notes, he descended in slow circles, until i 


he finally reached the ground. Here he strutted about) with’ 


Barge ines and tail erect, uttering excited picks intended 


vy, for his uiconcerned little mate,. swho nae Watched his per 


LGA it] 


\ 
4 


. Ca ae, 


ADYELS OF BIRD LIFE © \/ 


formanges. Seven times | watched him perform his stunt. He 
then’appeared close to his mate (he must have induced her to 
leave her nest for a bite to eat), and with a whirr of wings they 
both flew through the woods, heading for the swamp. 


‘i Night had by this time slipped his sable cloak upon the 


“land, and with no moon to guide me I had no little trouble in 


i makitig’my way out of the place. The weird calling of a whip- 


poorwill Accompanied me on my way through the woods, but 
the rest of the voices of the night were strangely silent this 
Spring evening. 

I repeated my nocturnal call to the woodcock the follow- 
ing evening-and again I witnessed the wonderful gyrations of 
the male bird, ‘only that this time he uttered a soft cheeping 
sound as he glided horizontally to the ground. As on the pre- 
vious evening the female bird sat quietly on her eggs and ap- 
parently remained indifferent to the marvelous performance 
of her consort. The show was réepeated-only four times on this 
occasion, whereupon the male flew out of the woods toward 
the swamp unaccompanied by his mate. I do not know the 
reason why she did not leave her eggs this night. I watched her 
until it grew too dark to make further observations, and &hen 
{ left. her.she was sitting on her eggs. ey 


[60..] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


On my next trip to the nest, early in the morning four days 
later, as I was approaching the nest | inadvertently stepped 
upon a twig, causing it to snap sharply. With a whirr of wings 
I noticed a woodcock fly from somewhere near the nest, but on 
reaching it I found the mother bird calmly at her duty. It was 
the male bird I had flushed by my clumsiness. 

Seeing that she was not so easily frightened, I-ecasually 
drew near the nest. I was within ten feet of her and she didnot, 
stir. Cautiously advancing to within six feet of her d itd 
clearly see her brown little body and bright brown eyes, as’she 
boldly stood her ground. On advancing about two;feet nearer, 
it was too much for even her steady nerves,_and. with a loud 
whirr of wings she almost hit me in‘the face as she sped\ away 

we through the woods. The eggs surely must have been quickened, 
\ or he would not have held her ground as long as she did. I 
\immediately left the woods, as her eggs might bewsiae chilled 

i if I kept her off of them too long. 
| Two days later I was at the nest.bright and early just as 
“the rising sun lit up the surrounding-woods. When I drew near 
the nest I failed to see the now familiar form of the mother bird 


upon it. Hastening forward I found it deserted, with; four 


nearly split eggs lying about, telling the story of the advent of 


eho Oe noe 


[DY TUS OF BIRD AT Et 


four more woodcock into the world. I had never seen the young 
before, and I was anxious to get a look at these birds, if pos- 
sible. As they were able to get about without the assistance of 
their hother, I did not know where to look for them. They are, 
“however; under the care of their mother for about a month after 
their Hearehin so I presumed if I could find her, I would see 
\ her young. I was disappointed, however, for I never saw the 
\shother or her brood again during the season. 
5 A farmer living near the woods told me that he had seen a 

woodcock cross the road near the woods followed by four young 
. birds, but it was more or less a conjecture that these birds might 
have belonged to the nest I had so diligently been watching for 
théqpast three weeks. Some day I hope to be able to see the 
young woodcocks. 

S, Owing to the wise game laws, the woodcock is slowly but 


surely coming into its own in southern Ohio, and I think it is 


but a matter of a few years until this bird will be as plentiful as}, 


formerly, “ Pp. y. 


“These shy, secluded birds all day 
In cool, thick-shaded haunts delay ; 
But when the woods at eve are dim 
To open feeding-grounds they skim.” 
io McLellan. 


[ 62 | 


—- 


THE DOMESTIC AFFAIRS OF THE SORA RAILS 


“Since earliest spring-time they have sought 
The utmost northern isle and shoal; 

Their chosen haunt and breeding ground, 
In latitude beneath the Pole. 


Mcliellah. 


eo* ‘ 


of sora rails and their home life, I must admit}.that the 7 
ae finding of their nest was purely accidental. It happened — 
™ like this: St eas | 
= One rare evening in early Spring, just as twilight WAS softly ba \y 
<x stealing over the land, a friend and myself were cano¢ing down / N 


\ a large stream in western Ohio. We leisurely paddled along 


making mental notes of the early migrants as we chanced to see 
them. At a bend in the river [ noticed a great blue heron, fly 
i, us over us, alighting along the shore in a patch of sedge aud water 
grass that lined the river at this point. We quickly paddled 
aien to where we saw him land, in hopes of getting a better view 
of him. As we neared the spot, he flew with great wing beats 


up the river: 


ice 


|| feasting our eyes upon a wonderful scenery about —us—and 


So 


f 
f 
f y 
bi id 2 Fs 


IDYLES OF BIRD LIFE ~ 
The momentum of the canoe carried us far into the reeds 


closéup’ to the shore. We sat there a few minutes to rest. 


\\ Gazing about me among the tall dead grasses as high as our 

heads, I noticed a tussock that looked suspicious. Eagerly 
| shoving with my paddle I pushed the canoe up to the spot and 
| “parting the grass, beheld nine eggs. It was now almost dark 
\ and T Gee unable to distinguish their coloring, which next day 


proved to belong to a pair of sora rails. After marking the spot 


we paddled out to mid stream, and set our direction for home, 


elated with the discovery; this being the first nest of sora rail 


NG had ever found. 


Early néxt morning just as dawn began to glow in the east- 


ern sky;1/anchored my canoe down the shore about a hundred 


feet from the nest, and quietly approached the home of the 


‘sora rail. / It was about five feet from the water’s edge and I 


could easily observe it with the aid of my field glasses from that 


\point of wantage. ae high grasses@about. me afforded an 


excellent blind. | a 
T could see, the yellow-billed, brown-eyed little mother 


upon the nest as I gazed through thé reeds. Her:olive-brown 


back, mingled with black and white spots and stripes showed - 


plainly,,through the rushes. Just before the sun arose, she 
[ 64°] | 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


quietly slipped off the nest and flew with unsteady flight-over 


the rushes to another part of the marsh. I quickly waded out 


to the nest, examined the eggs, for I had never seen the sora \ 


rail eggs up to this time. Their color was a/ dull buff, spotted | 


with dark brown, and lavender spots. /They\were beautiful to 
see, nine of them snugly packed down /in a nest of grasses and 
sedge lined with a few fine grasses. In all, the nest was a very 


carelessly constructed affair. The) platform on which it, was 


raised consisted of a few reeds about which it was woven. ‘I: 


made my way back to the blind not ‘a minute too soon, for] 
barely settled in my position when the mother bird returned 
to her duty. She did not leave that nest again until evening, 


as I was faithfully watching her throughout that memorable 


hot day. 


For five successive days I made the seven-mile*trip in my 


‘canoe to\visit the nest of the rail. At no time after my first 


\ visit did Y find her off the nest. 8 aithful to_her trust she 


guarded the incubated eggs with unrémitting assiduity. She 
certainly must have left the nest at some time or other during 
the day but whenever I approached “hershe was always/incu- 


bating, nor did I again get-a look at her beautiful eggs. 


AG 5" 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


All the rails are known as nocturnal feeders, so I thought 
I would pay them a night visit and perhaps learn something 
“of their feeding habits. I chose a bright night with a full moon 
udirectly overhead in a starlit sky. The trip down the river was 
enchanting this wondrous night. As I neared the nest of the 

Tails I bronene the canoe into the shore and landed. 
My bThe surrounding country was lit up like day, which made 
| fay locating the nest less difficult. All through the marshy 


/\| /land I could hear a series of notes, “kek, k! k! kewee, peet! peet!” 


Athich’kept up all the time I was in the vicinity. I readily identi- 


i a ! fie the notes as belonging to the rails. The place seemed alive 
Pal A thetn if one could judge from the calls that issued from the D 
a \ \ marsha A i 
4 Me j oS With some difficulty I made out the nest of the sora, and 

e 4 owes quite: “surprised to see the female bird closely sitting her \ 
i i eas, Ms Her voice was not joined in the rail chorus, which makes | be 
a P - _me- think sthe male birds of the neighborhood produced the not | hs é 
= \uninusical’ entertainment. a 
, t CAS 
y I could hear slight splashes occasionally, but try as I would, § — 


i! could see no other birds about, and yet I knew the place was, LP 


( ” + 


vA \i full of them. The rails were able to flit about through a maze | 


Al ‘of stalks and reeds, owing to- heer aaatay se boulies, sn: 16) 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


thread their way through the thickest tangles of cat tails and 
reed stalks, without making the slightest sound. 

After spending the better part of the night with the marsh 
birds I left them, and returned home. [| shall never forget that 
ride. The moon had slipped down behind the trees on the yest 
of the river and every now and then a silver beam shot across SK J 
the stream as a rift in the dense foliage permitted it. The voices 


of the night were much in evidence. Across the riven, the 
ne \ = LY 
r SS 


” woods several screech owls were busy answering one spother P- 
y | 


while the frog chorus kept up unceasingly and the night/insects 
f 

tried their best to entertain me through my seven- “ile ride A LS 
pas de 


back to town. 

Came a day about a week later, that I returned ta the rail 

nest and found it empty. Very much disappointed at fot Seeiio oes 

fay the mother and her brood I eagerly searched among the reeds | 
\ for traces of them, but was completely baffled. The young of 
the sora rail are precocious, and by this time they could ae 
Sales from their former home. I hoped this was not the ease 
\hs I wanted to make a study of the young as they are thé | 
—— novelty ta behold, especially to an observer who had never seen 
one of thent Before. ANS careful Sore of the marsh near 


Ag re 6 1, 


Wi 


/ 


f i 


nus 


yr 


fFVLELS OF BIRD LIFE ™“™ 


the nests I gave up hopes of seeing this family of rail youngsters, 


and setting into my canoe I started to paddle toward home, 


_rather dejected by my failure. 


On my homeward journey I kept my canoe close to the 


shore, perchance I might see another rail and her young, feeding 


among the reeds along the way. In this conjecture I was not 


. wrong.. /I had paddled down the stream about a hundred yards 


when I noticed a slight movement among some cat tails grow- 
ingabout profusely at this point. I slipped quietly up to the 


place and peered about among the rushes but saw nothing. 


“Thinking that I may have been mistaken, I started to leave the 


place when I saw a sora rail, a female followed by a brood of 
young, about teh feet ahead, in a tangle of reeds, cat tails, and 
arrow heads.\ I grasped my glasses, always handy for an emer- 
gency like this, and beheld nine downy little rails black as night 
in appearance, and with a soft tuft of whitish yellow on the 
breast, and a bright red Nrotiibernasce at the-base of the upper 
mandible. They were a funny lot of. youngsters to behold as 
they darted‘here and there after objects on the water- Icould not 


make out what they were catching, but they must-have been 


water insects or some vegetable material, The mother bird.was= 


sailing about»among her offspring pointing out as it were, the 


[68 | 


IDYLUS OF BIRD LIFE 


things they might eat. While I was watching their performance 
and without any sign of danger near, as far as I could see, the 
mother bird suddenly darted into the dark recesses among the 
reeds followed by her young. In a few seconds the entire brood 
had disappeared. 

] waited around that place for the best part of two hours 
carefully concealed, but I saw no more of the sora and. her 
young and to this day | do not know what caused her to give 


me the slip. 


About a month later I passed by\the locality where I saw | 


my first sora rail nest, but the place seemed: deserted... T imi- 
tated the call of the birds and in a "pe minutes.the whole Marsh 
was alive with the “kek, kek, ker-wee-peep” peep call of the 
sora rails. ; 

| Thousands of these birds are slaughtered annually for 
their flesh, which at best is rather flavorless and really unfit for 
food. The game laws of Ohio, however, preclude spring shoot- 


\ing, which protects the bird during nesting season. 


“In swamps impervious build their nest 

(So northern fishermen declare), 

Where none may reach them-to,molest.” 
McLellan. 


[| 69 | 


ae ae 


— 


ae ~~ 
Se ee en ee 


i 
ant ent 


ae 


ae 


Pad 


BOB WHITES AT HOME 


“Shrill and clear from coppice near, 
A song within the woodland ringing, 
. Ay The treble note from a silver throat 
The siren of the fields is singing— 
Bob-bob-white ! 
And from the height the answer sweet 
Floats faintly o’er the rippling wheat— 
LP Bob-white !” 
OP gem Marion Franklin Ham. 


OR days prior to the nesting season, I had been hearing 


* the nuptial call of a male Bob White. It seemed to 


iy "dD emanate from a ragweed field inclosed by an old rail 
Mi fence, which was fringed by oak, walnut and beech trees, with a 
more orless heavy undergrowth of briers. VA 
| ? 7 


; 
f 


\ 


_gf’> One Summer afternoon in early June, after an all-day un- 
i ‘successful search for the elusive nest of an oven bird, | was \. 
coming through the ragweed field, along the fence, when a ae 

7 w 


brown flash and a whir of wings startled me from my reverieg:s, aa 


mt jw 


Immediately all alert, I carefully searched among the weeds _¥ 
and ereenbriers at this point, and was finally rewarded by dis i 
covering a simple nest lined with erasses and leaves, at the al 

tersection of the old decayed rans. The nest-contained sixteen eo Zk 


[70] 


IDY EUS OL BIRDLIFE 


beautiful pure white eggs; the largest number of eggs of a Bob 
White I have ever found. The greatest number | had discov- 
ered up to this time was a nest of fifteen, found several years 
before. Carefully noting the place and position of the nest, 564 
as to be able to easily find it again, I left the vicinity. As I pro- 
ceeded through the field I noted the return of the hen bird, as 


| an ng] 


she flew through the woods adjoining the field. \ 


I again visited Mrs. Bob White several days later and / 


found her sitting on her eggs, seemingly not aware that: her arch, DP hn 


o~ 
‘ Dg ~~ 
ABE, —— \ 


\v. 
lem enemy, man, was studying her from a vantage point behind® ~ : 


If 
Ai << 
Lr 
a ye 


fat some blackberry bushes on the other side of the fence. Ag I 
is was watching her, the cock Bob White flew to the top rail, abpdt"s N 
\ _ thirty feet away and uttered the rally call, “coi hee!” so delight- 

\ ful to the hunter’s ears. The hen bird moved nervously anda ei eeaas 

/| shifting her plump little body, answered him with | one single . 

» note, a clear whistle; probably used by the female in answering * 
) her mate, but the only time I have ever heardit. I db not think 
this note is characteristic of the hen bird. An indiscreet move- 
one on my part, sent the mother bird, as well as Net mate, off 
like a pair of rockets. Satisfied with my observations forthe 


day I left thefield to the Bob White and his family-to-be- 
[ 7] 


/ 


ea 


Wh, Z4 f ua! 


{DYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 

Onginy way through the woods, I paused a little to listen 
to the ovftburst of song issuing from the throat of a wood thrush 
\\or bell bird. This bird is considered one of the sweetest song- 

I spare of America. Its only rival in this respect is its cousin, 

| the ‘Herniit Thrush, only known to us during its migration 

- periods in,the early Spring and late Autumn. The liquid notes 
of this particular wood thrush sounded clear and beautiful as 
they floated through the soft Summer twilight. 

. nT was loathe to leave this wonderful performance, but I 
noted the sun was fast sinking in a flood of crimson glory and I 
wished & get to the city before dark. I reluctantly left the 
woods, opine to hear that wonderful song repeated at some 
later day; ,\ \ 

The next time I visited the nest, or just fourteen days from 
the date of discovery, the eggs were uncovered, probably while 
the female was making eh daily toilet, or.taking a dust bath 
in somé nearby ait The oléat staccato Bob White call of 
the male bird, came seas to mefrom down thé field, showing 


that the eggs were only deserted temporarily; “for,, since the 


male bird was so near, his mate could not be far away. Just= 


as 1 turned:to, leave, I saw her coming through the air from: 


[ 22 | 


aa 
moet nepsaliises sandals eB simetanl 


SMart 
Wie Ss 

Sepak tat) 
‘ hy. 


POY CLS One TRDTLI EE 


across the field, returning to her duty. Ten more days, and 


she would be the proud mother of sixteen little downy chicks, 


as it generally takes twenty-four days to incubate the eggs. 

I was again treated to the wood thrush recital on this oc- 
casion, but I continued on through the {voods, as I had another 
nest to visit on this particular day and H wished to make obser- 


vations before it grew too dark. 


On my next visit to the Bob es nest, Heiner parent /. 


bird being near, I made a close-up study of the eggs, however, 


not touching them, for if they are handled the nest will be de- | 


serted at once. The eggs were fery ‘skillfully packed 1 in, the: 


pointed ends down, so as to savel space and permit the hen bird 
to cover all the eggs, during the period of incubation. \On this 
particular morning the sun was just creeping over the crest.of a 
att half a mile away, and flooding the fields with its beautiful 
\ eolden\rays. It was a sight for the gods to behold; and the soft 


‘summer \air filled with the fragrance of unseen censors swung 


\, by the hand of Nature, fanned my cheeks. Somewhere in the 


“woods a song sparrow, one of the very, éatly risers, stirred about 
uneasily and finally burst into a rich riot of melody. Presently 
the-other denizens of the woods began. to stir about‘and in a 
short time the air, this amphitheatre of the open, was filled with 


en 


i ee 


er ee it 


a 


PO i I a ee noes ng Dit nse 2 


meihenty aneaeie Sal 


nt 


IDY EUS) OF CBIR RETR 


the morning songs of hundreds of feathered creatures. Several 
rabbits were gamboling among the ragweed patches and squir- 


rels. barked from the branches of towering oaks. By the time 


the sun had climbed above the hill, and its rich, warm rays pro- 


claimedahother June day of unmatched splendor, I had to 


\ 
leave this place and hurry to my toil in the city. How I envy 


\\ 


th country-bred boy, brought up among these beautiful sur- 


eo da és A 
‘roundings, scarcely appreciating the wonders spread out all 


about him. His, is the chance of studying Nature in her every 


{ 


[| 


} 
| 


| 
F call that the eggs had hatched, for this was the mother’s note 


/ ee ge % 

(“foéd *and whim. 

‘ } j/ 

r | SM 4 
yo A few weeks later I passed through the woods and was 1n 


the act, of climbing an old rail fence when a shrill ““wee-tee |” 


| greeted my ears from the vicinity of the nest. IT knew from this , Z 


pe ‘warnitig ‘to her young. 


Carefully crossing the fence, I screened behind some tall 4 
a ( 
“weeds and. awaited developments. In about ten minutes I Saw fy Ne ‘ 


; pis 


the 
tee 


‘ ess the female Bob White come strutting along in and out among = 
ithe weeds, followed by sixteen little chicks, in appearance not = 
( unlike a brood of young chickens. They had dark brown: a 
ab \ “streaked heads, the bodies bqing’ a lighter browns, One little ‘ 
I 


“fellow » still had half his sheli4tached to his Tee but ist fy 
te Hy 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


was watching him this dropped off. In a short while Mr. Bob 
White joined his family and he and his mate proceeded to teach 
the young birds what they might eat. The young of the Bob _ 
White are precocious and proceed to feed themselves immédi- 
ately after they are born. 


As I was watching from my cramped position, a shrilf note 


of warning issued from the throat of the mother bird, and ina“ 


few seconds all the chicks, I can’t understand to this fay how 
they did it, were safely tucked under their mother’s wings. SIX-), . 
teen of them securely hidden away from danger, which this time f 
proved to be a Cooper’s hawk intent on his arene s Break 


fast. But he was not to feed on this brood of chicks, thanks' to" 


\ , their mother’s watchfulness. After the danger had passed, rhe 


“fledglings emerged from under their protection of wings and 


proceeded with their lessons on what not to eat. Half-flying; 
/ half running about, they gathered weeds of various kinds and 
some berries that I could not identify, although they must have 
~ Been from the last year’s growth. With the aid of my field 
® glasses I saw them take insects from the ground and under+ .»°- 


/ growth about them. The birds seemed to have forgotten about 


their recent home, and they did not visit it during that days 


li followed the brood through the ragweed held, across a road, 
c AC E 75 ae | 


—— 


= aman . ee 


IDYMS OF BIRD LIFE 


into a stubble patch and later into a deep woods, a half mile 
from their former home. Indications showed that they had 
not used the nest after being hatched. I had never observed 
this strange habit of desertion up to this time, although it 
actually-happens according to the eminent ornithologists. 

I lost sight of the bevy while in the woods, owing to the 
thick-impenetrable undergrowth of wild rose, sweet brier and 
numerous other growths. The work of this day, tramping 
through thorny bushes, crouching behind weeds hours at a time, 
a prey to all mosquitoes and other insects of the neighborhood, 
with a scorching sun beating down upon one from a cloudless 
sky, brought its reward. But this could hardly be called pleas- 
ure, for all was just a small part of a wonderful study, and the 
compensation is more than ample to one who loves Nature. 

On my next call to this Bob White family I spent a half 
day in locating them) but I finally found the brood along a nar- 
row stream about a mile from their formerlocation. The young 
birds were about two-thirds grown by this time and were all 
well feathered. I did not see Mrs. Bob White\and I presume 
she was busy incubating her second set of eggs, which in this 
locality is not an unusual occurrence. Upon my approach Mr. 
Bob White uttered a low warning whistle and instantly the 


[ 76. ] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


young birds were scattering everywhere and in ten seconds not 
one was to be seen. The parent bird flattened himself to earth 
and I could not see him. It was only afterward that he became 
visible. Almost tramping on him he flew to the farther bank 
of the narrow stream. 

I did not see my new acquaintance any more, as this was 
my last visit to them; although I probably ran across them later 
on in the Fall, while observing the migrations of certain birds 
to southern climes, because I flushed two large bevies, one of 
which located in this neighborhood. All the birds were large 
and fully developed individuals. Owing to legislation recently 
passed by the state of Ohio the Bob White is now placed on the 
song bird list, but it is a question if the birds will really be 
benefited by this act. 

“For now the bevies are abroad, 
To seek in stubble-fields their feed, 
Or where the bushy covert drops 


Its juicy wreath, its ripen’d seed.” 
McLellan. 


Lake 


aia 


a 


Sere, See ee 
PL toc A a en en ae Ot ne 


— 


a 


et er ~ 
/ quent an, 


THE MALLARD’S RENDEZVOUS 


“The gray duck and the dipper come, 
The brant-geese from the ocean-foam, 
The brilliant mallard, and the teal 
| With eye of light and wing of steel, 
14 \ All gather in the Autumn day 
. To haunt the waters of the bay.” 
McLellan. 


‘i$ aoe 
pure 


PP cme 
sas 


‘was a bright morning in early Spring, last year, that I had 

the very good fortune to locate a Mallard duck’s nest. I 

‘say good fortune, for here in southern Ohio, the finding 
of a Mallard’s nest is a lucky discovery. 

While tramping through a weed field on this particular 


morning} I noticed a suspicious-looking tussock of grass, with 


amopening in one side. Being always on the lookout for some- © 


thing new in the realm of birdland, I examined this tuft and to 


my surprise and delight, I found seven greenish-gray eggs of / 
the Mallard duck. They were neatly covered over with down», A 


plucked from the breast of the female so that they might retain yal 


their heat, while she, in all probability, was taking her break- ? 


fast and a swim at a stream that flowed some hundred yards 


from the field wherein the nest was found. 


473)5) 


IDYLUS OF BIRD LIFE 


I quietly left the nest after making a mental note of its 
surroundings. Here was my opportunity for a close study of 
the home life of a pair of Mallard ducks. 

I walked down to the stream hoping to see the ducks, but ~ 
in this I was disappointed. A lone heron was flopping down 
stream as I approached, but the ducks were not to b¢ séfn this 
morning. | 


I returned to the nest, as this was my chance to examine 


it carefully. A Mallard duck seldom leaves her nest},once the. mee 


tay / 


eggs are laid, and as she was gone for a few minutes my oppor” 
tunity presented itself. The nest was composed of fine dried ~ 
reeds, grasses and leaves, snugly set in a tussock of high grass y 
that formed an arch over it, protecting the eggs from thé-sun 
and duck enemies. I dared not touch the eggs for feahof driving 
away the parent birds, so I was content with noting their S1Ze, 
color and number, whereupon I left the field, elated with 
my find. i 


About three days later I found an opportunity t to. visit, the 


: Mallard home. As there was no screen of leaves or \Righ bushes 


near the nest, I spent over half an hour reaching it. Crawling : 

on my hands and knees, a foot at a time, I finally reached the 

vicinity, of the nest. The Mallard, though very inquisitive) is 
[ 79) 


ete 


aaa 


a 


ee 


ee ere 
EE Re BA me Ree tt 
3 


anon 


IDYELS OF BIRD LIFE 


one of the wariest of our ducks: my reason in this matter for 
using extreme caution. I slowly peered over the top of a patch 
of weeds six feet from the nest, and saw a demure little duck, 
unattractive in her dark brown and buff feathers, her beady 
little eyes-steadily gazing about her, ready to flee at the first 
sien of danger. The drake Mallard was nowhere to be seen, nor 
did | see him during the interesting time I spent with his mate. 

Early in June he undergoes an extra molt, at which period, 
according to ornithologists, he is unable to aid his mate in her 
duties, however willing he might be. It is a curious fact that 
as soon as his mate completes her set of eggs he is off to parts 
unknown, nor-does he again put in an appearance until the Fall 
flight. The female bears the burden of raising the brood alone. 

About’a week later I paid another visit to the Mallard nest. 
Day was just breaking as I reached the river a short distance 
from my objective. I quietly approached the nest, but could 
scarcely locate thespot. Owing to the darkness, I was forced 
to await the coming of daylight. 

In a short time I was able to make out the-form of the 
brooding mother as she quietly sat upon her eggs. 

The sun had now risen, causing the weed patch and grasses 


to glisten with dew. The morning was unusually quiet and the 


[ 80 J 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


squawk of a heron as he flew over the river could be-plainly 
heard. Nearby, on a low bush, a field sparrow greeted the new 
day with his simple little song. The “top, top, top,” of a wood- 
pecker could plainly be heard somewhere. It was Peedito be 
out this wonderful morning, alone with God’s creatures. 

I patiently watched and waited for some action on the part 
of the Mallard. Ina short time she began to-show signs of life, 
raised her head and peered about to make sure that the coast 
was clear. Having satisfied herself in this matter she gently 
arose to a standing position and flapped her wings as if stretch- 
ing. She next covered her eggs' with the down that was scat- 
tered about. Whereupon, she sedately waddled off toward the 
river, to get her breakfast and make her toilet. I quickly 
changed my uncomfortable position for a more restful one, and 
awaited herreturn. In about eight minutes she was back to her 
nest, and after turning the eggs with the aid of-her bill, she 
quietly settled upon them, and I am certain she did not leave 
them until the next morning. 

The Mallard duck seldom leaves the nest after the eggs are 
laid, and I know in this case the brooding bird seldom left them. 
I did not try to flush her,-being afraid she might desert her duty. 


[ 81 ] 


J 


ey ere 


— 


Nice nee 


| 

4 
} f 
{ 
} 
d 
bd 
iy 
Y 

i 


= — 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


Aiter several hours of observation I left the nest and followed 


the river homeward-bound. Bird life is very plentiful in this 


locality. I counted thirty-one species of birds in the four-mile 

walk along the river. Some of them, however, are migrants that : 

yUst Visit_us on their long trips to their northern homes. | 
For my next visit with this duck family I chose a dull- 


Cloway day with a promise of rain. The weather kept its prom- 


& —_— 


dl 
se, and when I reached the nest about midday, it was raining 
hard, with a chill wind blowing from the north. I approached 
the nest with less caution than was my wont in the wet woods, 

¥ / (aScthe weeds in this case would not betray my approach by 


Se erackhng underfoot. The faithful mother was on her nest, 4 


/ 
g facing. south, with the wind at her back. The tussock of grass [/ 
i < 
Hi ; formed only a slight protection from the rain, which constantly 
5 fell <upon the brooding bird, but she seemed wholly indifferent 
\ to the wetsurroundings. . (p= 
€ . Not Being a duck, I hurriedly departed this day, as I had } AX 
SZ 
to face_a chill wind and rain on a four-mile hike back to town = 
j No bird life was to be seen. The heavy downpour evidently ST 
{dampened the spirits of the birds. h, y 4 


} arrived home soaking wet, but after putting. on a chanke- | 
otclothing I| felt none the worse for my damp experience. ¢/V\\f 7 | 


[ 82.) OP ANA 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


The last visit to the nest was just twenty-three days from 


the time of its actual discovery. As I approached the spot I 


did not see the familiar form of the duck. Cautiously drawing 

near I found the nest deserted and six of the eggs gone. A few 

scattered egg-shells lying near it, showed that they must have 
deme) 


hatched; all but the one egg which, upon examination, I found 


to be not fertile. I hurried to the river in hopes of seeing the ~ 


Mallard and her brood. On parting the heavy a of 
bushes so as to get a view, I espied, to my delight, the nother \ 
and her brood peacefully swimming about upon the Shooth 


waters of the stream. Keeping carefully screened I Watched / 


the antics of the young for some time as they half paddled! halt ‘ 


ran, in the water at calls from their mother. Now and then 
she would tip for a luscious pondweed or some other water- 
growth especially to her liking. 


As it generally takes twenty-eight to twenty-nine days for 


incubation of Mallard eggs, this set was probably about’ five 


days old when found. 
~The young, when hatched, are unable to walk well at first.) 


so the mother bird carries the entire brood, one at a time; to’ 


the river. oe re I was unable to witness this test of 


parental devotion, aa about S1X weeks the young are able to 


(83) 


— 


t ‘Ty xf 
a NS — 
L 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE > 


fly, at which time the real trials of the mother begin, for then 
the young ducks are the especial prey of the duck hawk, the 


habitual enemy of the duck tribe and other smaller birds. 


“In shallows at the channel-edge, 
The wild ducks come from North and East 
Innumerous gather to the feast. 
Oh! far and fast their flight hath been, 
From distant stream and marshes green, 
Where since the springtime’s earliest days 
They’ve linger’d, their young broods to raise, 
And now the gusty north winds pour 
Their winnowing pinions to our shore.” 
McLellan. 


[ 84 ] 


= 
<= 
a 
mY 
2 
— 
7) 


SUMMERTIME 


The sun has drunk 
The dew that lay upon the morning grass ; 
There is no rustling in the lofty elm 
That canopies my dwelling, and its shade 
Scarce cools me. All is silent save the faint 
And interrupted murmur of the bee, 
Settling on the sick flowers, and then again 
Instantly on the wing. 


Bryant. 


4 


4 


RAMBLES OF A BIRD LOVER 


“How plain and height 

With dewdrops are bright! 

How pearls have crowned 

The plants all around! 

How sighs the breeze 

Through thicket and trees! 

How loudly in the sun’s clear rays 

The sweet birds carol forth their lays!” 


Goethe. 


OT far from the confines, of Dayton, Ohio, about 

a twenty-minute ride/from the town, is one of 

the most natural bird regions ofthe country. The 

place is an ideal one for the birds. The northern bound- 

ary of this spot is formed by a series of small hills thickly 

wooded and covered by a very heavy undergrowth. To the 

south and east run rolling meadows and cornfields, while the 

west side is bordered by a river, the haunt of many shore and 
wading birds. 

One bright, balmy morning in early June, I betook myself 
to this.ornithologist’s paradise. As I entered the glen, as it 
canbe called, a rich chorus of bird music filled the air. Through 
the almost undistinguishable medley I made out the notes of the 


Bea 


[IDYEES ORR BERD Gin 


cardinal, robin, house wren, crested flycatcher, blue jay, flicker, 
and red-headed woodpecker, the harsh “chack-chack” of the 
purple’grackle and numerous other notes unrecorded. 


As~I walked through the woods, I noticed a house wren 


Aly from a \hollow limb of a giant sycamore nearby. I quietly 


investigated, and found that a pair of these tiny birds were busy 


buiiding a nest in the dead limb. I marked the place for a 


Py 
< 


—— 


future visit when the young would be hatched. A pair of robins 


Wwere busily engaged in building a nest in a black locust tree 


hy “ikgt the sycamore, preparatory to raising a brood. Not ten 

( ewe from the locust and in a clump of bushes I found a brown 

| )thtasher’s nest containing four bluish eggs, spotted with numer- 

| \ ous fine dots of reddish brown. Neither parent bird was in the 

| | | } vicinity, but while I was examining the eggs both birds arrived, 

a | i so 1 quickly left the neighborhood of their home, not caring to 
disturb them during the nesting season. 

| 9 walked on slowly, watching every tree and shrub for |, \. 

signs ‘of bird life. About a hundred feet up in a sycamore, iS 


female flicker was hard at work chiseling out a home, while a % 


busily engaged in feeding a hungyy nest full of young, EE ety iat 


“tell, BY ie boisterous cldmorings. I discovered another \ 


[90 


< it ' 


; x Gespabcaded woodpecker, a little higher in the same tree, Was 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


flicker’s nest in a small elm. The opening to the nest was not 
twenty feet from the ground, and as I passed under the tree the 
female flew out. By some hard climbing, which was all the. 
more difficult because I had not brought my climbing dishrs: I 
reached the nest. It contained six beautiful pure white eggs 
laid upon sawdust chipped from a tree by the bird te tf 
Making a note of the place I proceeded through the see th, 

One certainly could call this place a bird paradise andmake J 


no mistake. I had hardly been there an hour when’ I had 


ye >: f 
already discovered a dozen nests, and seen numerous birds from 
= each family, with great surprises and wonder still fn store, 4 
\. for me. | dial 
aN 


By this time I was getting close to the river. I heed the 

harsh rattle of a king-fisher as he sped across the river, becom- 

/ ing alarmed, I suppose, at my approach. Just above me.in.a 
\black walnut a cardinal was sounding his “cheo! cheot-cheo !”” 
EA tndine out his happiness to his brooding mate somewhere in 
a ee tangle of grape-vine. Although I flushed the female, 
I failed, after a diligent search, to find the nest. I had now 
reached the river, and as I stood gazing at the rippling waters 


reflecting the early morning sunlight, a great blue heron flew 


ee 


ADYEES OF BIRD LIFE ~ 


up the river with a steady dip of broad wings. An object I had 
notided while gazing at the river was now opposite me in the 
shat of the stream. With the aid of my field glasses I made 
out an American scaup duck, a bird seldom seen in this part of 
the country. Later on I was told by an authoritative party, 
that he had found a scaup’s nest in this locality, which, if true, 
is indeed a record, as they are seldom found breeding below the 
northern tier of states. This find, indeed, is worthy of record. 

Walking back from the river again, I was soon in the very 
thickest part of these delightful woods. The growth in this 
part is so dense that the sunlight fails to pierce the thick foliage. 
A clear, plaintive note, “pee-a-wee” greeted my ears from the 
depth-of this shady nook. Again came that clear note, “pee- 
a-wee,” which | consider one of the sweetest notes in all bird- 


dom. There is something so pure and sincere about this not 


unmusical call that issues from the throat of one of our smallest ys 


flycatchers that~l cannot help commenting upon it.) F inally, } 


after diligently searching the. shadows, I found the source| ‘of 
this particular call, a wood pewee, a quite Unassufning oray- 
coated little fellow, perched on a branch of a tall oak about 
twenty feet from the ground. Careful searching, however, 


failed.to.reveal his mate or a nest. 


[92,.] 


LD MES OFS BIRDLIFE 


I have almost neglected to mention one of the main features 
of this particular morning. In all my bird walks I had never 
been fortunate enough to discover an indigo bunting’s nest. I 
have seen hundreds of these beautiful birds, and listened to 
their rather tiresome songs on many a hot August afternoon, 
when the rest of our songsters were silent and seeking the cool 
shade of the woods. But this wonderful June morning must 
have been my lucky one, for I almost stumbled on one ofthe 
neatest nests I have ever found. As | passed by some shrubs, a 
sparrow-like little bird flushed from the midst of them. Such 
action on the part of a bird aroused my suspicion, which was 


verified by the finding of the nest. It contained four pale bluish 


eggs. The nest itself was a cup of grasses, lined with horse hair 
‘\ and fine rootlets. I was not certain of the identity of the owner 
\of this neat little home until I saw the male indigo bunting in 


_- company with the bird that had flown the nest, just-above me 


in a small elm, anxiously watching my every movez:Not, wish- 


ing to unnecessarily keep the mother bird from her eggs, /ly 


marked the place and withdrew, hoping to be able to peep into 


the domestic affairs of a pair of indigo, buntings a week or so 


ere Vater, 


[93 4 


| 


—— 


at 


4 aege tel y tne em: Po — Fae a eh 


Pe 


Fad 


= 


Pa 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


The sun was now sinking low in the western sky, casting 
golden rays upon the tallest of the forest trees. The evening 
“prayer” of a wood thrush as he gently thanked for the gifts 


of another parting day, was the last song I heard as I left 


~ ‘the wood. 


eS 


“From all the misty morning air, there comes a Summer sound, 


ee murmur as of waters from skies, and trees, and ground. 


i “WBE Ne birds they sing upon the wing, the pigeons bill and coo.” 


R. W. Gilder. 


Wigan 


~~ 


THE ROBIN’S MENU 


“Now when the primrose makes a splendid show, 
And lilies face the March-winds in full blow, 
And humbler growths as moved with one desire 
Put on, to welcome Spring, their best attire, 
Poor Robin is yet flowerless; but how gay 


With his red stalks upon this sunny day.” 


W ordsworth., 


HE most abundant, and probably the most universally 


cherished of all our American birds is the robin7 Purely, 2, 


a domestic and fearless bird, the robin rears its/young m 
Tk \ 4 


perfect safety, close to the abode of man, sometimes selecting _.g» 


Se 


; : . ‘Mt Ne { An 
for its home a projecting ledge above a door. The/bird’s4con< 


fidence is seldom misplaced, which tends to make\it all the 


more trustful. Of late years the robin has increaged-in-such- 


large numbers that its natural food is not ample enough to care 


for the increasing demand. ‘The apprehension is félt. that it 


facts regarding the diet of the robin, based upon the’ most rigid 
investigation, will not be amiss at this season. 
In addition to its most pleasant neighborliness and com- 


panionship, the robin performs a most beneficial work for the 


[ 95 | 


“may become dangerous to our food-producing crops; A\few 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE ° 


farms by~preying upon the insects that feed in vast numbers 


upon the crops. The young of the robin are fed almost entirely 


\\upon insects. It is well known that birds are an important 


factor in keeping in check myriads of insects. Therefore, to 
destroy @ robin or any other kind of bird, means to invite 
destruction by the insects. Even if a few cherries are eaten by 
the robin, should it not receive compensation for its warfare 
upon the insect pests? 

About fifty-seven per cent of the robin’s diet consists of 
vegetable matter, and four-fifths of this includes wild fruit. In 
places where, due to cultivation and improvements, the wild 
fruits are destroyed, the robin has to adapt itself to the fruit 
and other food \most easily obtained in that locality. This 
usually consists of the cultivated varieties, consequently devas- 


tation of the farmer’s crops result. Such cases, however, are not 


» numerous. 


The most common complaint ‘against the robin is that it 
destroys cherries. The birds never take all the fruit, but usually 
divide with the family, in cases where just a few trees are reared 
for home use. The robin also damages strawberries, blackber- 
ries, and raspberries, and even the larger fruits, such as prunes, 


peaches, pears, and grapes. Its principal vegetable diet, how- 


[96] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


ever, consists of wild fruit, of which about sixty-five varieties 


are eaten, whereas only about ten of the cultivated ones are 


consumed. The robin rarely eats grain, which indicates that 


the cereal is not greatly relished as a means of subsistence. 
Over forty per cent of the robin’s diet consists of insects. 
Sharing with the bluebird the distinction of being our earliest 
migrant, the robin naturally preys upon the insects that first 
come out of their Winter quarters. /A few of the useful preda- 
ceous beetles, which are among the first insects to appear in 
the Spring, form a part of the robin’s diet\in March and April. 
During the month of May, wherein they are most abundant, 
the May beetles offer a delicious morsel. Larvae of the fireflies, 
which live in the ground, are also eaten. Several species of the 
_ weevil, including two clover weevils, the-corn weevil and a num- 
ber of others are eaten during the early months. Bees and 
\ wasps \re usually avoided by this bird. In April and May, 
‘Biles are consumed. ‘The injurious cinch bug 1s the-most inter- 
esting pewabes of this genus, which the robin disposes,of with 
relish. The larvae of the March flies, which prey upon the roots 
of grasses, are also indulged in to a great extent. In one jin- 
stance a thousand and forty larvae were found in one bird’s 
stomach. The caterpillar forms a regular diet of the robin. 


eae 


a, bs 


Se ee ee ee ae 
oe een ee 7 - 


IDYLLES OF BIRD LIFE 


b | The greatest consumption takes place in May, when it amounts 
to nearly twenty-four per cent of the food. Grasshoppers are 
always, acceptable as food, but only during the short time that 
they are most abundant. Certain spiders, snails, angle worms, 

anil and sow bugs are eaten, but they form only a small per cent of 

Bef /. thedie. 

af q Ve gin the matter of the robin’s food it can be seen that, while 
Ne ) re cre useful beetles are eaten in the early Spring, it is not in 

a ( their destruction that the bird does harm. A bird whose nat- 


| "(ital stpply of fruit is cut off, usually becomes a pest by preying 


i tte / ((/ onthe cultivated varieties, when obtainable. In some localities 
| In RAS AL A “yp 
al ty \ i fl . ‘e\ e ° ° 
“Ye wthe-conditions are: too many birds of one species and too little A 
a5~\ | of the natural food supply. Under such circumstances a law  {// 


ac} pepmitting the grower to protect his crop would not be out of 

: (piace. Where the robin visits, he should at least be tolerated 

X ‘in the pyicring of his food. The bird’s wants do not make of (~>~ 
\ hime an enemy, whom we should seek to starve by cutting off | 
his food supply. fa 


| iF : : —> = 
f The sobered robin, hunger-silent now, ; ( 


Seeks cedar-berries blue, his Autumn cheer.” 


«,. Lowell. 


7) % 


‘ssaceused justly of stealing cherries, the robin more than pays 


hh iptne 
Wye 


THE ROBIN AS AN INSECT DESTROYER 


“Kach morning, when my waking eyes first see, 


Through the wreathed lattice, golden day appear, eee 
There sits a robin on an old elm-tree, 
° . ° . L A 
And with such stirring music fills my ear, i wlll 
. 4 - 


I might forget that life had pain or fear, 
And feel again as I was wont to do, 
When hope was young, and life itself were new.” 


: \ S\ 
Anna Maria VKells. | 


/ 
f/f 
hit 
uh 


OO much cannot be done by the bird lover to enepaEe : 
the robin about his premises. It is a known fact that 4 LD 


the robin is one of our most persistent birds in eh a 


back the insect life that thrives on our trees and in ourlgardens. 


One of our most abundant and yet most useful bird neigh= saerer 


bors is the robin. To encourage this pert, democratic bird about 


‘\our premises, means ample protection against the insects’ and 


injurious beetles that infest all gardens and trees. Although 


\ 


for this depredation by his persistent efforts in ridding our 


Rremuses of eae larvae of insects. His good qualities more‘than 


compensate! us S for the loss of a) few cherries. 


Gea 


* 


f 
J VW 
A 
/ 


i ADYLLS OF BIRD LIFE © 
3 ay To-destroy the robin means to invite destruction by the 
insécts:2 
“Whither away, Robin, 
Whither away? 


Is it through envy of the maple leaf, 
Whose blushes mock the crimson of thy breast, 


Thou wilt not stay? 
The summer days now long, yet all too brief 
The happy season thou hast been our guest: 
Whither away ?” 


E. C. Stedman. 


THE BLUEBIRD’S REPAST 


“Thou first sky-dipped spring-bud of song, 

Whose heavenly ecstasy 

Foretells the May, while yet March winds are strong, 
Fresh faith appears with thee!” ( 


Maurice Thompson. 


F'TEN before King Winter has lifted his icy breath from | 
our northern fields and streams, the bluebird, with his Wi 
sweet song, “trualy, trualy,” is proclaiming that Spring | 

is at hand, and rarely is he mistaken in his prophecy. i 

A very domestic bird is this hardy little creature... He ap- 
propriates for his nest, old stumps, deserted woodpecker holes, \ 
or boxes that are placed for his use... He rears his young, of 
which there are often three or four broods, about houses and ‘ 
orchards, and is not at all interested in their safety. as far as 
man is concerned. 

Not only for his sweet song and happy nature is,the blue- 


bird cherished by all mankind, but he is one of the chief allies 


(II tt aap Ct se rte nt nti age. my 
i= ¥ al ag 


—— 


of manin his warfare upon destructive insects. During the 


——_ 


Spring,Summer and early Fall,the bluebird lives almost entirely 


a a teat 
—— Rae Ga 


i nr 


upon insects. A single pair of these birds on one farm will do 


[ 101 ] 


en 
a 


= 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


more good in ridding the place of insects than any artificial 

means known. The entire diet of the bluebird consists of 

sixty-eight per cent animal and thirty-eight per cent vegetable 

it ood: 

The only charge against the bluebird is, that during the 

mulls Gathite he destroys great numbers of predaceous beetles. 

| Few birds exceed the bluebirds in the destruction of these in- 

, cm The largest consumption of these beetles occurs in May 

and the least in September. 

. Beetles of the May-beetle family are eaten extensively 

) Le the month of May. They are eaten in nearly every 

Ry month, but the largest consumption occurs during the three 

nionths from May to July. They consist mostly of the small A 

ding beetles, a few snout beetles and a few of the less harmful LY 

aie ine 
Mice larger per cent of ants are devoured by the bluebird than ») 

by the robin. Practically no bees or wasps are on his aaah / 

though flies enter lightly into his diet. A moderate per cent at ‘“ a 

bugs are also eaten by the bluebird each month. ee ~~~ 
Caterpillars form a regular article of food for the bluebird. A 

They furnish the greatest food supply in March and the least in 

December. The cut worms and-hairy caterpillats of this species | ) 

ag 102 | | 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


are the most extensively eaten. The largest item of the blue- 
bird’s food consists of orthoptera, grasshoppers, crickets and 
others of the same species. The insects of this species are harm- 
ful and when numerous, are very destructice, as they prey en-_ 
tirely upon the farmer’s crops. It seems almost a provision of 
Nature, that all birds are especially fond of these insects 
Several species of other insects are eaten by the bluebird, 7 
such as spiders, which are consumed more extensively by the 


bluebird, than by the robin, sow bugs, angleworms and snails. 


The vegetable diet of the bluebird consists mostly of fruit I — a 


of which practically all is of a wild variety. Some /cherties, 


rasperries and blackberries have been identified in/ different .o» 


stomachs, but not enough to do any harm. The largest quaritity~ 
\ of wild fruit eaten by the bluebird is in December, while in May 
| no fruit of any kind is eaten. The fruit-eating period of the 
bluebird is not in the Summer, but from October to February, 
when nearly all the fruit is waste fruit and when species of in- 
.sects are very scarce. Seeds are seldom, if ever, eaten by the 
bluebird. A few grains of wheat, bay berry and sumac, com- 
plete the seed diet of the bluebird. 

Summing up the diet of the bluebird shows that this bird 
is one of our most valuable insectivorous bipeds and one that 


f 103 ] 


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ji 4 

, ay 
fi Nw 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


ie “,  shquld b¢ encouraged to live near the abode of man, so as to aid 
; hin in his extermination of insect pests. When the fruits, such 

as strawberries, cherries, raspberries, and blackberries are at 
| their best, the bluebird lives upon insects to the extent of four- 
fifths of its food. Its fruit-eating period is from the late Fall 

| | | to early Spring. One point, though not of much consequence, 
is, that the bluebird destroys predacious beetles to a very large 


extent during the early Spring. 


“In the thickets and the meadows 
Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa. 
Liat On the summit of the lodges, 


Sang the robin, the Opechee.” 


Longfellow. 


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AUTUMNAL DAYS 


“What visionary tints the year puts on, 

When falling leaves falter through motionless air 
Or numbly cling and shiver to be gone! 

How shimmer the low flats and pastures bare, 
As with her nectar Hebe Autumn fills 

The bowl between me and those distant hills, 


And smiles and shakes abroad her misty, tremulous hair.” 


Lowell. 


Ot cage Tt rnd rae St nip iagieet v0 
pa ae ae ee OR 


AUTUMN 


“T love to wander through the woodlands hoary 
In the soft light of an autumnal day Pe 

When Summer gathers up her robes of glory 4 
And like a dream of beauty glides away.” ie 
Sarah Helen Whitman. \ | 

HAT is more wonderful that a quiet stroll through t 


some beautiful woods on a clear, warm Autumn ¢ 
morning. The air is redolent of the spicy breath of 

: pine trees and the scent of burning leaves. 

| The hills surrounding the woods are one mass,,of rich; f 

waving color, of red, russet, gold and yellow, while here and there 

a vivid patch of green shows where the belligerent attacks of 

Jack Frost have as yet been unsuccessful: Clumps of purple i i 

: asters \border the roads, while the fields are yellow with 

golden rod. ; 
Most\of our Summer song birds have left for théir-Winter 

homes, but the woods are still filled with stragglers and perma- 


nent residents. Robins fill the deep-woods with their continual 


chirping, while cardinals, some of the warblers, and wrens, find 


ee ee ee ee ee ee 
ie . 61 


a a 


én 


food in/trees and fields. Saucy chickadees, those jolly Winter 


neighbors, scold from every branch, as though challenging the 


[.109 J 


- ~ = en 
aint ol 


ane 


a ~ 
_ 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


right of the rest of their feathered folk to feed on their crimson 
domain. Nuthatches and titmice hunt together and keep up a 
merry conversation with all who happen to pass by. 

The wonderful color schemes that sweep before one’s eyes 
seem almost impossible to describe. The natural blending of 
Nature’s ‘colors beggars description. I doubt if it would have 
been_possible for the impressionistic Turner to paint such a 
wonderful scene. Surely no one else need try. 

And yet in a few weeks, that slip by only too fast, this won- 
derful blending of color will be swept away by Winter’s icy 


blasts, and another evolution of Nature will have taken place. 


“In warlike pomp, with banners flowing, 
The regiments of Autumn stood: ff 
I saw their gold and scarlet glowing pA, 


From every hillside, every wood.” 


Henry Van Dyke. 


AFIELD IN OCTOBER 


“The Summer’s throbbing chant is done ) 
And mute the choral antiphon; / 
The birds have left the shivering pines | 
To flit among the trellised vines, 

Or fan the air with scented plumes i; 
Amid the love-sick orange blooms, , 
And thou art here alone,—alone, 


Sing little bird; the rest have flown.” 


O. W. Holmes. 


KNOW of nothing more fascinating or exhilarating, than 
| a stroll through some quiet woods on a beautiful, crisp 
October morning. With a couple of younger brother bird- { 


enthusiasts and armed with field glasses and note| books, we 
started out early, one October morning, for a densely-wooded 
hill just south of town. In half an hour we were well away from 
the city’s glamour and noise, and inhaling thé pure au- 


tumnal air. 


| 
| | All about us was evidence of Jack Frost’s belligerent 
| —~ efforts. The fields, a month before green, and fragrantoand full 
! of. birds, were now withered and sure proof of the wonderful 
evolution of Nature. Here and there clumps of purpie New a9 
England asters asserted their rights to live their short existence, 
while slender golden rods nodded to the October winds. ‘The 


[ 111 ] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


hills, as-we approached them, appeared through our glasses 


one mass of rich undulating color, vivid and startling against 


he deep blue of the sky beyond. 


““Dee-dee-dee-chick, a-dee-dee!” “Do you hear that, 


| Tom?” “Yes, but I don’t see him.” Again came the clear, 
| saucy, scolding notes just over our heads. “I see him!” called 


y Jack...Sure enough, there he was, a black- -capped chickadee, 


hanging from the end of a branch of a small sapling, sending 
out‘his scolding notes and fairly bubbling over with good na- 


ture. “Don’t they ever go south?” inquired Jack. “No, they 


‘are one of our very few resident birds, and help share the long 


Winter with us,” I answered. 

Mr.Chick hopped a few feet closer, his black cap bobbing 
here and there. He certainly was a bundle of nerves. Now 
on one limb, shen| on another, hunting for small insects and 
spider eggs that he might find lurking beneath the bark. 

“Well, that’s, number ohe for this morning,” remarked Tom 
as he*made a-note in his book. 

We had proceeded but a few-yards when a nasal, “yank- 
yank” greeted our ears, and looking/up we saw the-author of 


this queer sound, peering down upon us from the under-side 


of an:oak: limb, 


P1127) 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


“ know what kind of a bird that is,” yelled Jack.—‘“All 
right, let’s have it,’ Tom and I chorused. /White-breasted | 
nuthatch,” said Jack. ; 

“That’s what he is, and a beautiful bird at that, with his , 
bluish-black crown and blue-gray Back Another of-our resi- | — | 
dent birds who helps lift the burden of our long Winter days. | 
Notice how he goes down the tree trunk head downward. His | 
tail is short and square which enables him to balance himself 
perfectly.” | 

Another “yank-yank, ya-ya,/ as\if to inquire why our in=-<),— mp ¢ | 
trusion on his domain and he was off for-another treé,ir: a dis- li 
tant part of the woods. | . 

We now approached an opening through the trees, a small 

_ swampy patch of rank weeds and Mder creer A bird flew\up 


from a\pool of water where it had been bathing, and-darted into 


ia \ the bushes. 
- “Did you see him?” asked Tom. 

“Ves? I answered, “looked like some kind of a sparrow, 
! a but 2m not sure.” | ie M 
|s ( While we were standing there waiting for him to come,out, 
the bird accommodated _us-by flying into the open, where he Pe 


[ 113 J 


IDYEUS OF BIRDALIFE 


' gave us all a good view of himself. “Isn’t he a beauty?” whis- 
pered Jack, peering through his glasses. 
3 “Do either of you know what he is?” I queried. 
! | _ “Foooks something like a sparrow; all but his head and 
throat,”-said Tom. 
ane a “Well, he belongs to the sparrow family, and his white 
thréat proclaims him to be the white-throated sparrow. He is 
I A) ‘rarely seen here during the Winter, but is quite common in the 
Spring and Summer months. He is now probably on his migra- 
| ee tion toa warmer clime. They say he is the handsomest of our 
ti, ed ’sparrows. His call is sharp, high-pitched, and a very clear and 
| : sweet whistle, ‘peabody bird’.” But all we heard was his call 
note when alarmed. He now flew down and began busily to; // 
huntfor breakfast or probably lunch, as his breakfast time was 
over,_and‘so we left him to the task. 
| : pei “Third one this morning,” yelled Jack, “and it isn’t eight | ( v 
o'clock yet., Pretty good, isn’t it, for a half-hour’s walk?” h | 
“Not so bad for this time of the year,” I replied. 
r | We were just crossing a shallow brook bordered by a clump Y =) 
of willows when Jack stopped short. ‘Did you hear that?” | 
) “Hear what?” inquired Tom and myself. | 3 Be | 
| wy Just then a few scarcely audible weak chirps reached our 


[ 114] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


ears. They came from the willows so we immediately pro- 


ceeded toward them in hopes of locating the owner of the mys- 


terious notes. After a few minutes of anxious searching we all 

located the bird at about the same instant. To tell the truth, 

I did not know what he was, as I could only see his breast and 

there were no distinguishing marks about it, until he bent low 

over the twig in his search for food, and then I discerned his ~ b 

beautiful golden crown and knew him to be a golden-crowned 

kinglet, a very pretty little bird a trifle smaller than the warblers. 
“T know what he 1s,” I exclaimed, and I had the two of my 

.¢. companions greatly excited until I let them in on the mystery. 

This had only been their second time out on a bird study expe+ 

dition, hence their ignorance of some of the more common birds. 
“Does he stay with us the entire year?” asked Jack. iy | 


“No,” I answered, he is only a Winter resident and arrives 


here about this time, but leaves again in April for the mountain 


regions and spruce forests of our northern states where he 


breeds. He is a very hardy little bird and endures our most 


severe Winters with evident relish.” 


steep hill for a short cut to another part of the woods. 


“There is a robin,” remarked ‘Tom, as we were climbing a 4 
(! 
i\ 
j 


“Did! you say that was a robin, Tom?” 
[ 115 | 


} 


‘ / 5 


OY tht 


ABYELS OF BIRD LIFE’ © 


ye 


“Sure, don’t you see him over there among those dead 
leaves fear that clump of bushes?” A hardy outburst of 
laughter greeted our ears, and we saw Jack with glasses levelled 
at the bird. 

“Why, I know what he is,” he exclaimed and again he 
laughed as he saw the chagrin of disappointment on Tom’s 
countenance. 

““That’s a towhee, isn’t it, Dick?” addressing me. 

“It’s a towhee alright, but how did you know it?” 

“Qh, I remembered a description I read of a bird, some 
time ago, and how easily it can be mistaken for a robin,” he 
nodded mischievously toward ‘Tom who was busily engaged in 
watching the actions of said towhee, and acting as though he 
did not.hear\the\last remarks. Just then a clear, “tow-hee-ee” 
rang through the woods, and our bird flew up to a low-hanging 
branch of a small sapling and answered a “chewing-chewing” 
from,which he also derives his name Of*chewink. 

The towhee is not usually a resident, but he leaves for other 
climes about the first of November, although males are some- 


times seen in these parts the year around./ 


As we were descending the hill,on our homeward journey 


assharp “peenk, peenk, peenk,”’ reached our ears’ from an oak 


P116'| 


IDV EUS ORTB IRD IETE ph 


tree about fifty feet ahead of us. We cautiously advanced 


toward the tree and after a few minutes’ search, discovered a 
downy woodpecker about half-way up the tree, busily engaged 
in searching for spiders’ eggs, and larvae, that’do more or less 
harm to the trees. | 

Both of my companions knew the diminutive downy 
through their bird guides, and both were anxious to make his 
acquaintance face to face. 

He is another one of our permanent) residents and stays 
with us throughout the Winter, even veins our houses in 
places where he is fed. | | 

After explaining the little I know of Mr. Downie’s habits, 
we proceeded toward home, and after a delightful and\ thor- 
oughly educational walk, it can be imagined what we did to a 


good lunch that awaited us when we arrived home. 


“No loud, high notes for tender days like these 
\ No trumpet tones, no swelling words of pride 
Beneath these skies, so like dim Summer seas, 

Where hazy ships of cloud at*anchor ride. 

_ At peace are earth and sky, while-softly fall 

' The brown leaves at my feet; a holy palm 
Rests in a benediction over all, 


O silent peace! O days of silent calm.” 
? Ellen P. Allertan. 
[117] 


tere gree ie Se 


SOLD HEAD IH ON RERS 


“In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower 
The spectral owl doth dwell; 
Dull, hated, despised, in the sunshine hour, 
But at dusk—he’s abroad and well! 
Not a bird of the forest e’er mates with him— 
. All mark him outright, by day: 
But at night, when the woods grow still and dim, 
The boldest will shrink away ! 
O when night falls, and roosts the fowl, 
Then, then, is the reign of the Horned Owl.” 


Barry Corvwall. 


T was a brilliant, starry night, in early Autumn. A full 


moon rode high in the vaulted heavens and shed its rich, A 
mellow rays over fields and forests, where, filtering through VY 


the leaves of the dark and silent trees it cast fantastic splotches / 


of light upon the woodland paths. The chirp of crickets and the 
monotonous drone of numerous other nocturnal insects still , 
filled the air, while the occasional call of some night bird 


startled the intruder with its weird and mysterious sounds. 


During a lull in the insect serenade there came floating—~ 


upon the crisp night wind the hoarse, discordant hoot of a great 


Horned Owl in the distance,” Scarcely audible at first, it rose 


mi 118 ] 


| 


df . 


3 ie 


[TD YLES*OR BIRD LIFE 


in sound and volume until all the furry nightfolk of the forest 
scampered in terror to places of safety, as well as they might. 
They knew the prowess and hunting ability of “Old Head 
Hunter,” as the folks in the neighboring village called this 
wraith-like bird, because of numerous depredations committed 
on their poultry yards and dove cotes; taking only the heads 
of his victims, as the brains were the tid-bits he delighted in. 
Again “Old Head Hunter” was preparing to exact his nightly 
toll from among the smaller denizens of the forest. _ 


In almost uncanny silence, on swift, hawk-like wings, he 


came sailing through the woodland and alighted onthe dead i 


branch of a towering oak, from where he made his sallies upon 


his unfortunate victims. A deep-toned, “to-whoo-hoo-hoo, to- 


-whoo-hoo,” that sounded like a muffled roll of thunder, startled 


/ the furry folk, and again sent them scampering to places of 


safety. But, one poor, unfortunate little mouse, probably a bit 


bolder than the rest, ventured too far from his place of safety, 


and before it had time to escape, the claws of “Old Head 
Hunter” had sunk into his back; with a squeal of terror, the 
mouse was borne in triumph to the dead oak limb, where the 


great horned owl, for such “Old Head Hunter” was, began-to 


[119] 


‘aoa 


f 
¢ 
fy 


fi. ie mY ei ! 
IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE | 
vit ~, deyour his victim. With his powerful beak he ripped the head 


from the body. Another rip and he laid bare the brains, which 


he gulped down with evident relish. 


“Old Head Hunter,” unlike the rest of his tribe, was not 


a 
gn EY 


content with devouring his victims, but only delighted in eating 
Belt Gk i their brains, so that he always kept up a relentless attack on 
the quail, grouse, snipe, rats, squirrels, mice, chickens, turkeys, 

| . in short, about everything he could kill. His nightly toll was’ 

| between ten and twenty victims, and the neighboring villages, 

| \ unwilling to tamely submit to his maraudings upon their 

\i poultry coops, offered rewards for his body. But “Old Head 
Hunter” was too wary for all of them, and invariably eluded 


their most cunning schemes to capture or to kill him. 


In another part of the forest all was serene and calm. A 


: break among the stately trees permitted a flood of light to a 


/ silver the ground.’ In this spot a mother rabbit was giving her 


halt-grown children their, evening.exercise> Running about, 


gamboling over the rich carpet of fallen leaves, the young cotton 


r | tails were having, oblivious to all impending danger, a delight- 


ful time. Suddenly 4 great, ominous shadow poised over them. 


| The mother rabbit squeaked her call of alarm, buttoo late!\ A 


short scuffle;:a clapping of huge wings, and one of the little: 


[ 120 ] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD CIEE 


family fell victim to the ravenous maw of “Old Head Hunter,” 
who sallied silently back to his perch to devour His latest prize. 
Where only a few minutes before peace and freedom dwelt, now 
a poor mother was mourning the loss of one of her young, pow- 
erless to avenge its untimely death. The brains of the young 
rabbit only served to whet “Old Head! Hunter’s” appetite, and 


with another long and weird hoot he was off in search of another 


victim, which this time happened fo be a large rat thatwmo-/, 
mentarily exposed himself as he ran across a moonlit spacé near 


afarm yard. Ina few seconds the ode was beheaded and the | 


brains devoured. A pigeon straggler\in ; a. dove cote near the 
scene of the last tragedy was the next to fall prey to the rapa- 


cious bird of the night. “Old Heatl Hunter” was fairly gloating 


in blood. The terror of the woods wa’-in his glory. 


Rp Having feasted on the pigeon brain, “Old Head Hunter,” 


\ not wishing to take any more chances in such close proximity 
‘to human habitation, sailed back toward the woods in search 


\. of another variety of “brain special.” He had not long to wait. 


Ina marshy bog that bordered his domain, a small flock of 
ducks-had paused for rest and food on “their long migrations 


southward. His sharp ears caught their-squawks of contented- 


uy ness as 3 they settled, for the night; his piercing eyés discerned 


[121] 


As 


we 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


) them among the reeds, and swooping with a rush he descended 

upon the flock and his sharp claws tore into the soft back of a 

| Mallard duck. With a cry of terror the unfortunate bird was 

| | borne to “Old Head Hunter’s” perch, where he speedily went 
| the way of his predecessors. 

| {| | i ewan Use as “rosy-fingered dawn” was tinting the eastern sky 

ihe Great Horned Owl disposed of his last victim, a song spar- 

row that had stirred out a little too early. As the darkness of 

the forest gave way to the gray twilight of the early morning, 


| he slowly and silently sailed away to his home, somewhere in 


jit the’ depths of the tamarack swamp, where he still lives un- 


1h | molested ‘and unavenged. He builded wisely, as the approach 


to his ‘castle, owing to the tangled undergrowth and insecure 


footing, is almost impassible for human pursuers. 


“So, when the night falls, and dogs do howl, 
Sing, Ho! for the reign of the Horned Owl! 
We know not alway 
Who are Kings by day; 
But the King of the night is the bold brown Owl.” 


Barry Cornwall. 


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WINTER MONTHS 


“His breath like silver arrows pierced the air, 
The naked earth crouched shuddering at his feet, 
His finger on all flowing waters sweet 
Forbidding lay-motion nor sound was there :— 
Nature was frozen dead,—and still and slow, 


A winding sheet fell o’er her body fair, 


Flaky and soft, from his wide wings of snow.” 


Frances-Anne—Kemble. 


OUR FEATHERED WINTER RESIDENTS 


“O cheery bird of Winter cold, 
I bless thy every feather ; 

Thy voice brings back dear boyhood days, 
When we were gay together.” } 


Burroughs. 


S the last lingering days of late Summer merge into the 
flaming glory of those of early Autumn, most of our 
feathered songsters begin their migrations to warmer 

climes. Great flocks of blackbirds, meadow larks and robins 
| “se may be seen wending their way southward, intermingling in Hes | 
perfect peace and contentment as they stop at intervals on their : . F 
iN long journey, for food and drink. | | \. 
While these, and thousands of others of our feathered 
_ neighbors, take up their Winter residence in warmer, latitudes, 
| / | the more hardy of our birds are preparing for the season of cold 
| weather in practically the same localities where they raised their a 
: \\ broods or sang their ditties of love during the Spring and Sum- 
i ~ “mer. They seek the evergreen woods, or appropriate the clefts 
: ‘~<-and crevices of decaying deciduous trees. Hardy birds as they ‘ 
are, these retreats amply protect them from the icy blasts: of . hi 
Winter, even though the struggle for existence 1s a precarious A 


one. 


f 127) , | 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


One’ ofvthe most common of our Winter residents is the 


chickadee. This diminutive ball of good cheer is about an inch 


‘smaller than the English sparrow. He is quite distinguished in 


appearance. The crown of his head, nape and throat, are black. 
A white space beginning at the base of its bill spreads over the 
cheeks, widening over the upper part of the breast until it forms 
a collar around his neck. Underneath is a dirty grayish white, 
and a rusty brown wash on both sides. The wings and tail are 
gray, with white etchings. 

No seeker of fair weather is this jolly little bird, and you 
have probably heard, on more than one occasion, his plaintive, 
“chickadee-dee-dee-dee” outside your window when a snow- 
storm was atts height. 

The chickadee is one of our most friendly feathered neigh- 
bors. His confidence can easily be gained, whereupon he re- 
mains a life-long friend, coming every Winter, to help cheer up 
through the long, weary months. A great aid in trying to gain 
his confidence is by placing food, such as finely. cracked oats, 
wheat or minced meat, in sheltered places. /A piece of suet tied 
to the limb of a tree, or a raw bone hung from an evergreen 


bough will, nevertheless, always be appreciated. 


f 128 ] 


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ooo - 
sre = he ame vas oe eee 
Oo Sae? lito Fae A 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


The chickadee, however, serves a more useful purpose than 
trying to cheer faint-hearted humanity. It is the well known © 
and destructive enemy to the canker worm moth, and it is estt- 
mated the chickadee eats over a hundred thousand eggs in the 
twenty-five days it takes this moth td crawl up the trees. It 
may readily be seen that it pays to protect the chickadee\in 
Winter for the good deeds he performs in Summer. 

Another of our permanent feathered residents is the white- 
breasted nuthatch. A hunter of the deep, silent pine woods is 
this fearless little acrobat. He is a trifle smaller than'the Eng- 
lish sparrow. The top of his head and nape are black, while-his 
back is slate-colored. The wings, of a-dark slate, are tipped 


with black, which fades to brown. The tail feathers are brown- 


ish black with white bars. The sides of the head-are white. 


The body, underneath, is at first a white, but shades to a pale 


\ red under the tail. 


Probably you have seen him while walking through the 
woods on/a cold Winter’s day, running along the branch of some 
tree; now on the underside, again on top, busily engaged/in 
breaking up little pieces of bark, searching for spider's eggs. 
At your approach he pauses) in his*work and peers fearlessly 


[ 129 | 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


down at you, as if to inquire why you intrude on his domain. 
Only a few moments, and seeing that you intend no harm, he 
resumes his task of destroying larvae. 

The most frigid weather has no terrors for this hardy little 
“tree mouse,” as he is sometimes called. His cheery “quank, 


quank, hank, hank,” may be heard while the mercury hovers 


lat’zero-and the snow hurls through his feeding grounds. He is 


“usually seen in company with the titmice, chickadees, kinglets 


and brown creepers. 
Closely related to the white-breasted nuthatch is his red- 
breasted cousin of the same name. Lead-colored above, he has 


browntsh wings and tail. The head and neck are black; like- 


wise the>chin and shoulders. A white stripe passes through 


the’eye to the shoulder. The under part is light and rusty red. 


The tail feathers are barred with white and edged with pale 


brown. 


This tiny Winter resident is easily distinguished from his: 
larger’cousin by his red breast. The red-breasted nuthatch is —— 


‘generally seen in company with his relatives, the white breast 


and the brown creeper, while the ruby-crowned kinglet and the 


chickadees are not barred fronv his society. * 


[ 130] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


Like the larger relative, the red-breasted nuthatch has the 
habit of darting along the boughs of trees and running along the 
underside. —The common note of this bird somewhat resembles 
that of the white breast, but it 1s higher pitched and uttered-at 


more frequent intervals. 


A near relative of the chickadee is the bold, little, hie se of 


titmouse. It is about the size of the English sparrow.) It has 


a crest which is high and pointed, and is ashy-blue im\color. 


Ash-gray or leaden is its coat. The wings and tail are Very 


dark, and the shoulders are black. The sides of the head area 
dirty white, while those of the body are a yellowish-white, tinted 
with red. | 


Although very diminutive in size, this pert and dainty little 


bird resembles the blue jay in miniature, minus the latter’s 


'/gaudy color. Here is the leader of the Winter bird troupe. His 
call of “cheevy, cheevy,” is one of the most familiar sounds in 
the Winter woods. Hopping ahead of you, he always sees to it 
~ that you are not lonely on your Winter afternoon’s walk. —Lead+ 

ing you farther and farther into the woods, constantly appine 

-from twig-to twig a few feet above your head, he 1s always cheer- 
ing you ony. at 
| £131) 


~~ 


ADYELS OF BIRD LIFE’ \/ 


i} | The tufted titmouse is especially valuable and much 


respected for the number of insects he destroys during the Fall 


and Winter months. 


Probably one of our least known Winter residents is the 


brown creeper. Like the tufted titmouse, he is about the size 


| f | of the English sparrow, brown above, and with ashy-gray 


stripes,.and small, oval-shaped gray mottles. Color is rather 


i light on his head, increasing in shade to redish-brown near the | 
tail; the wings are brown, and underneath are covered with a 
i gray-white. A slender, curving bill ornaments the creeper. 

ti This scrupulous little worker is the very embodiment of per- 
sistent diligente. He is usually seen in company with the nut- 
hatches, the ee eee and the kinglets, but at times becomes 
| rather solitary, a ealteaslti to be alone. He is precision itself, 
in the manner of obtaining food; beginning at the foot of some ih 
rough-barked tree, he silently climbs upward in a sort of spiral 
fashion, now lost to sight on one side, then Hie dove just where 
he is expected to, on the other. It takes him just-about fifty 
seconds to finish-a tree, with all his painstaking care. Then off 
again to the foot of another tree, he\repeats his spiral methods 
throughout, the livelong day. | lie | 
(4S2,,] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


At times, while clinging with frozen toes to some trees, he 
still finds time to utter his repertory of pleasing notes which 
are distinctly characteristic of him. The brown-creeper’s 
plumage is an extraordinary feat of imitation; being an exact 
reproduction of the tree bark on which he lives. 

Another one of our permanent residents is the golden- 
crowned kinglet. He is about one-half the size of the English 
sparrow. His crown patch is of a bright orange or flame color, 
bordered by yellow, and enclosed by a black line. The: upper 
parts of the body are of a grayish-olive hue. The wings and 
tail are dusky, bordered by olive /green)\ which underneath is 
grayish white. 

When Autumn is in all her colored splendor, and Dame 
Nature lavishes the hillsides with dashes of-rich red and yellow 
. coloring, this little bit of bird life arrives, to share with us our 
Winter. \He is a veritable bundle of nerves, constantly flitting 
_ about the twigs of some tree, searching the bark for hidden in- 
‘sects, fluttering his wings and scarcely giving youxa-chance to 
distinguish him, until you discern.his flaming crown. Zero 
weather is’immaterial to him, and with evident relish of the 
cold he/calls out his shrill “zee, zee, zee;” from the pines and 


spruce. Although usually-seen in the company of the brown 


[ 133 ] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


creeper, the kinglet has none of his energy, and rather inclines 
to take things easier. Like the nuthatches, he can hang upside 
down from any limb, and pick off an insect with the skill of 


any of his neighbors. 


a ara 


The\hairy woodpecker is one of the most diligent workers 
of the Winter troop. He is about the size of a robin, black and 
white above, with white below. A bright red patch is on the 
nape i his neck, and the wings are striped and dashed with 
black and white. The outer tail feathers are white, without 


Abit) \ bars., A white stripe is about the eyes, and on the sides of the 
Ae iy head. 


——_— 
~ 


We all know the bill of the woodpecker is well adapted for | 
its work. Its business in life is to protect the tree by destroying v | 
| i - theinsects that lurk beneath their bark. In any kind of weather af 
this faithful bird may be seen clinging to the trunk of some tree, | 
busily. engaged in plying his vocation. We naturally associate x 
this hardy bird with the Winter weather, for by his very nate ae 
; he 1s able to obtain an abundant food supply much more readily” 

, than most of the other non-migratory birds, which makes him- 7 
free ‘from the depressing spirit of the season. He is in the. _— 

happiest of moods during the’ blackest weather. In the lh GQ A 

[ 134 ] 


LOyigiseOr, BURD ULIEE 
for hidden worms and larvae, it seems as if the hairy wood- 
pecker depends upon the sense of hearing to detect his prey. 
A “tap, tap, tap,” is followed by a pause, as if he is trying to de- 
tect the escape of some hidden insect, and he is very persistent 
in his efforts. This bird is very independent, and is rarely seen 
in the company of any of his neighbors, although, at times, he 
may join a group of chickadees, kinglets, nuthatches and 
creepers. 

The hairy woodpecker is a drummer, not a singer, but his 
steady “tap, tap,” upon some resonant bough is a pleasing sound 
as one enters and wanders through the wood on ,a dismal 
Winter’s day. 


The downy woodpecker is another of our Winter residents. 


‘He is similar in color and shape to his relative, the hairy wood- 


pecker, but not quite as large. He is about the size of the Eng- 


lish sparrow, black above, and striped with white. The tail is 


wedge-shaped, and the tail feathers are white, barred with white. 


A black stripe appears on the top of the head and a distinct 


white band over the eyes, with a red patch on the side of the 


neck. ‘The wings have numerous bands crossing them with 


white underneath. | 
[135 ] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


The’downy woodpecker is one of our most confiding species 


_ of birds.” He is fearless and full of curiosity, too; and one of 


the most devoted members of the Winter band. 


He begins his tireless efforts of life, by searching for insects 
at the bottom of some tree, working his way around it and 
climbing spirally, then working one branch after another until 
he has finished the tree. He burrows deeply into the wood, but 
does practically no harm, as his work is mostly all in the de- 
cayed parts, where the worms are to be found. His work is, in 
fact, of inestimable value to the tree, as he destroys its real 
enemies. As he flits from tree to tree he utters a characteristic 
“pink” or “wink,” sometimes a rattling call which is scarcely 
distinguishable from that of the hairy variety, although less in 
volume and of a more pleasing quality. 

Among his other. qualities, the downy woodpecker is very 
friendly, and is sometimes seen pecking away at some hollow 
limb just outside your window. -He-very often visits villages, 
frequently-the trees on the Streets, or) the fruit trees of the 
back yards: 

A member of one of the largést bird families is’ the tree 
sparrow. He is one of our most friendly companions as we 
plod through a field on a cold Winter’s day. He is about. the 
[ 136 | 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


size of the English sparrow. The crown is of bright chestnut. 
A gray line passes over the cheek, and the throat and breast are 
gray. The back is brown, the feathers have edges of black and 
buff; the wings are dusky, with two whitish bars across them. 
The tail feathers are brown, bordered with grayish white. 
Under some unburied weed patch in a field piled high with 
snowdrifts, a flock of these cold-defying, hardy little birds will 
keep up a constant twittering, as 1f/trying to dissipate the cold 
Winter’s weariness. : | | 
The tree sparrow is one of the most numerous birds to be. 
found during the Winter season / flocks of them ofifrom.a dozen 
to two or three hundred, are cite in- localities where weed | 
fields are abundant. | | 
~~. By his name one might imply that the bird-lives in trees, 


but on the contrary, he is seldom seen there, preferring the 


\ small, low bushes and usually wood patches, for his home. His 


song is sweet, melodious, “Swee-ho, tweet, tweet,” that may be 


heard on any mild Winter’s day. 

The cardinal is not a permanent Winter resident of the 
north, but he is a frequent visitor. He is a trifle smaller than 
the Pobite Brillant cardinahin color, Bes the bird. his name. 


[ 137 ] 


IDS bS2O De Bb URID STE 


His chin and a band around his bill are black. His beak is 
stout and red, and his wings are grayish colored during the 
Winter. 

What is more beautiful, on a Winter landscape, when the 
earth is-clothed in a thick mantle of snow, and the evergreens 
droop heavily under their burden of fleecy whiteness, than the 
red flashes of a little group of cardinals in some cedar tree, con- 
trasting strongly against the richness of their surroundings? 
When the Winter is very severe and food is scarce, this haughty 
little aristocrat of birddom will often deign to mingle with the 
chickadees and nuthatches, sharing the food that was placed for 
them by some bird lover. 

The cardinal is seldom seen permanently located in one 
place.during the Winter. He usually roams about in flocks of 
his own ‘species, continuing on through places where he can 
make his;way. Endowed by Nature with a wonderful voice, 


the cardinal] is sometimes called the “Virginia nightingale,” but 


his rich “choo,” is seldom heard during the short Winter days’. 


The blue jay is another of our well-known birds which = 


shares the Winter months with us. He is somewhat larger than, 
the robin. With blue above,)a,black band around the neck, 
he isa grayish-white underneath. The wing coverts and tail 


[ 138)] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


are bright blue and barred with black stripes. The head is finely 
crested. The bill, tongue and legs are black. This bold ravisher 


of bird nests is, perhaps, one of the finest colored of all our _ 


birds. He usually travels in flocks of some twelve to a hundred 
of his own species. Like the cardinal, he seldom remains’ in one 


locality during the Winter months, preferring to travel on, ite 


ing better and happier feeding grounds as he goes on) When 


hard pressed for food, however, he boldly mixes with the chicka- 


dees that congregate in our yards, to partake of the. “suet, 


chopped meats and cracked wheat that is provided for them. 


The blue jay’s voice is anything but musical, and his arth 
screams and shrieks seem sometimes to drown the voices of his Ww 


\ more gifted fellow-creatures. 


I have said nothing in this paper of the game bas that are 


always with us, but that is a subject for a future effort—> 


“But cheerily the chickadee 

Singeth to me on fence and tree; 

The snow sails round him as he sings, 
White as the down of angels’ wings.” 


Trowbridge. 


[ 139 J 


Ms Wf y P 


* 
OS oe 


Ce 


» A WINTER’S WALK IN HIGHWOOD 


» Under the snowdrifts the blossoms are sleeping, 

Dreaming their dreams of sunshine and June, 

Down in the hush of their quiet they’re keeping 
Trills from the throstle’s wild summer-sung tune.” 


Harriet Prescott Spofford. 


WAS fourteen years of age and Bud was twelve, when we 
received our first shotguns. I am nearly sixteen now, but 

I look back to the event as the first great episode of our 
lives. We had wished for guns from the time we knew what 
hunting was, and that was long, long ago; for the love of out- 
door sport*came to us through heredity and environment. Dad 
was Nimrod of\old and many were the stories he told us of sports 
afield when. we were small boys, which made our trigger-fingers 
tingle, and our blood surge to the surface in anticipation of like 


experiences. 


Our guns were single-barreled 16-gauge, breech loaders,’ 


bored for nitro powder. |) We received them two days before the 
close of the quail and rabbit season, so we importuned Dad 
to take us out before the season closed. 

\Accordingly, on December fourth, we boarded the ‘six 
o’clock,,traction for York, a little town a few miles distant: 


[140 ] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


After reaching York we walked about two miles until we arrived 
at the farm of a relative where we intended to do our hunting. 

The place was called Highwood, a very appropriate name, 
considering its wooded hills and undulating fields. Highwood 
is one of the most ideal spots near town and appeals to all who 
have the love of outdoors at heart. The house, which is used as 
a Summer home for the family, is situated on a little knoll over- 
looking a small creek. A rustic bridge crosses the stream and 
leads up to the house of the tenant. On the east and west were 
large cornfields, while here and there. amongst the stalks, a 
golden pumpkin showed a yellow face. The. creek which ran 
past the house widened down below; and formed a little, trans- 
parent pool in a ravine, which was bordered by locust ‘and 
willow. trees. rae 

As soon as we reached the cozy house, we built a. roaring 
fire in thé old-time fireplace, to warm ourselves. Having as- 
sembled our guns, we filled our pockets with shells; and were 
ready for our first experience with a.shotgun. I almost forgot 
to say, we took our pointer, Toby, with us, for we had seen sey- 
eral bevies of quail in the coverts north of the house, during 


the previous Summer. 


[141] 


Brg ; 
ea 


ee es 


IDYLLUS OF BIRD LIFE 


A light snow had fallen the night before, making the track- 
ing of rabbits comparatively easy. The snow was not so good 
for the dog’s nose, however, but on a snowy day the quail do not 


fly so-far, so we were at no disadvantage. The tracks of many 


rabbits showed that this game, at least, was plentiful. We had 
been walking about half an hour when Bud, who was a little to 
the rear of us, yelled out: “There goes a rabbit!’ and to the 


left a little white streak went skimming along the stubble, 


followed by a charge of shot from Bud’s gun, which did not 
affect the bunny’s progress in the least. I then shot, and still 
he kept going at a lightning-like pace. Dad whistled and called, 
but Toby did not return, so we decided that he must be some- 
where on point. We went over to the covert, a short dis- 
tance away, and there, to Bud’s and my surprise, Toby was 
Standing rigid as a statue. Dad went in and flushed the birds, 


but we were too excited to shoot, because of the loud whirr, 


whirr, whirr of the birds as they flushed. We marked the 
singles, however, as they alighted, and soon Toby had another.’ ; rb 
point, Dad flushed the bird and as it arose, I fired. I did not~~- 


have any intimation that I would come within five feet of it 7. 


until‘Toby, good dog that he was, brought the bird tome. That2*~ 


was a proud moment for me, as this was my first quail. 


[ 142 ] 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 


Just then Dad called out that Toby had another point, and 
this time Bud got a chance to show his skill; he was not equal 


to the occasion, however, and Dad brought down the brown 


beauty with his second barrel. Now we were all anxious to get ~ 


a rabbit, and as we were crossing the creek, one was started 


from under a brush pile. This time Bud got a kill, and Dad said 


it was one of the prettiest shots he had ever seen. Bud was more!” 


astonished than I. He attributed his achievement to luck. 


It was beginning to snow, and this made the fun all the 


merrier from our point of view, but Dad said this would end Phe 


our quail shooting and he generally knows what he ié. talking 


about. His conclusion proved to be correct, for we saw no more 


quail that day. 


It was about 11 o’clock when we started for the house, 


| | and on the way thither, Dad bowled over a fine rabbit that- 


seemed to be going a mile a minute. When we reached the 
house the fire was still burning, and having replenished/it, we 
\ warmed the coffee, and were soon sailing into the hinch we had 

_taken with us. The luncheon hour is always one of the most 
pleasant ones of a day’s hunt. Tired and hungry, we sat down 
and ate our plain fare with a relish, food that at any other time 
would hardly tempt us, and then talked of the sport we had-en- 

143") 


10* 


i 


IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE — 


joyed. All these things go to make up a pleasant hour. After 


the meal was over, Dad filled his pipe, and while he courted 


\ “My Lady Nicotine,” we placed the things in order and put 


more wood on the fire. 

~Atter-our lunch and rest we donned our hunting coats, 
placed a few more shells in our pockets, and started out for 
the afternoon victims, if any should show themselves. This 
| time we Went out farther than in the morning. As we were 
traversing a gully bordered by trees, and very rocky, a rabbit 
jumped up from behind a huge boulder which Dad had passed 
by.. I blazed away, and missed, having overshot him by four 
feet.. Dad and Bud fired simultaneously, and the rabbit took 
two summersaults and lay still. I ran forward and was about 
to pick. him up when the little demon jumped up and bolted 
like a shot outiof acannon. Bunny no doubt had been stunned 
for a moment, but it was evident that he had not been hit in 
the vitalyspot. | We then continued ‘down the.valley and chased 
up two more rabbits, one of which was stopped by a shot from 
Dad’s gun. 

The scenery about us was most striking; the.trees were 
all bare of leaves, while the white mantle sent from heaven and 


the» sky, ofa,leaden cast, was still sending down the frozen 


[ 144°] 


[Dy ORVBIRD LIFE 


moisture. We were thus admiring Nature’s panorama when 
two rabbits started up from under cover of ragweed. | stopped 
one of them, much to my delight and surprise; the other fell 
a victim of Dad’s gun. And so we put in the afternoon. Despite 
the fact that game was not so plentiful, we enjoy ed the hours 
as they passed, which, after all, is the best part of an outing. 
Towards four o’clock it stopped snowing, and the white 
hills and the snow-laden trees contrasted beautifully with the 
dull, leaden color of the December sky. Twilight was now 
rapidy advancing, which warned us \to start back to the house 
and prepare for home. On the way back Bud had another op- 
portunity and killed a big Eboitanich jumped_under his feet. 
This put him in high glee, for it.was his second.. When we 


arrived at the house we extinguished'*the fire, cleaned our guns, 


-—anrd were then ready to start for town. We reached the traction 


at York at about 5 o’clock, and by 6 were enjoying’a good, 


\warm ehhh at home. Our first experience with shotguns will 


always remain among the most pleasant memories of the Bes 


Like some lorn abbey now, the-wood 
Stands roofless in the bitter-ain; 
/In ruins on its floor is strewed 
The carven foliage quaint and rare, 
And homeless winds complain along 
The columned chops. once thrifled with song. 
Lowell: 


+9 


[ 145 ] 


“Do you ne’er think what wondrous beings these? 
Do you ne’er think who made them, and who taught 
/*» The dialect they speak, where melodies 


Alone are the interpreter of thought? 


Whose household words are songs in many keys, 


Sweeter than instrument of man e’er taught!” 


Longfellow. 


THE Enp. 


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